


What Right Have You?

by MelyndaR, ozhawk



Series: The Soulmates Continue [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:06:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 24,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3078974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelyndaR/pseuds/MelyndaR, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/pseuds/ozhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma/Loki continuation of ozhawk's Soulmate Shorts "What Right Have You?" Jemma was stunned to find that Loki was her soulmate... but that's still nothing when compared to having to tell her team, going to live on Asgard, or learning to deal with a whole new culture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Soulmate Shorts AKA The Crackship Armada](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658407) by [ozhawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/pseuds/ozhawk). 



> Okay, guys, this story was written with the permission and assistance of Ozhawk, starting directly where the twenty-sixth chapter of her collection of one-shots, "Soulmate Shorts" leaves off. This story has the same title as that one-shot, and I'd really encourage you to head over and read those one-shots - and the continuations of a couple of them that she's written, for that matter. This first chapter is the original one-shot that she wrote, and chapter two is the beginning of the story that I wrote with her. Hopefully you guys enjoy it!:)

**What Right Have You?**

_Jemma/Loki_

BioFrost

**Chapter One:**

_It is definitely possible to be too curious._

Her very first time meeting Jane Foster and Bruce Banner –  _such_  important scientists – and Jemma's own curiosity had made her linger as the others followed them on the tour of the Tower labs. She couldn't help herself from reaching out to touch the little device that hovered, apparently unpowered, above the strange symbols etched on the lab floor.

"No!" Bruce Banner's shout was the last thing she heard before the world exploded.

* * *

Voices speaking an unknown language was the first thing Jemma heard as she regained consciousness.

"Where am I?" she croaked, trying to force her eyes open.

The voices went quiet, and then a  _very_  deep voice rumbled, "You are on Asgard, my lady."

" _What?_ " Jemma's eyes opened wide at that, and then she narrowed them, blinded by golden dazzle. Squinting, she made out a giant man crouching before her, wearing all golden armour. "Are you Heimdall?" she put together the pieces after a moment.

"I am. And there is one here who you have met before," he gestured, and Sif's concerned, beautiful face came into view.

"Doctor Jemma?"

"Lady Sif," Jemma managed a smile. "Oh, thank God I ended up somewhere safe." Her head lolled back and she fainted.

Sif and Heimdall exchanged glances. "Maybe not so safe as all that," Sif said wearily. "You know Odin's command; I must take her before the throne."

* * *

" _Another_  Midgardian?" Odin snapped. "This is not to be borne; they invade Asgard at will now?"

Sif put a bracing hand behind Jemma's back as she tried to back away. Jemma had recovered consciousness on the ride to the palace and started asking questions; all Sif could tell her was that Odin had ordered any intruders to Asgard brought before him, no matter the circumstances.

"The device was the one Lady Jane and Sir Bruce built for Prince Thor to return without need of the Bifrost," Sif said. "It should not have activated under the touch of a Midgardian. We must return Doctor Jemma so that Lady Jane and Sir Bruce can study what happened…"

Odin's eye glared harder. Jemma tried to shrink into the floor. That Cyclopean gaze was worse than Nick Fury's, and that was saying something.

"Loki," Odin said finally. Sif tensed as a tall figure emerged from shadows behind the throne and resolved into the Trickster God, clad in his formal green and gold court robes, a gold circlet atop his dark hair.

Jemma shivered with fright as that green gaze fell upon her. Dr Foster had explained that Thor originally thought Loki was dead, but he was masquerading as Odin while his father slept so that Thor could be with Jane on Earth. It has sounded sort of romantic and self-sacrificing. But under those glittering eyes, she doubted Loki ever had a romantic thought in his life. She felt like a particularly unusual butterfly caught in the net of an entomologist.

"This falls under your purview, since it was your magic that enabled Lady Jane and Sir Bruce to complete the device. Study the Midgardian and discover why she was able to activate it."

Loki bowed to Odin, and gestured Sif and Jemma to follow. Jemma's feet dragged; only Sif's reassuring presence enabled her to move. They followed Loki to what looked like his study or perhaps lab, though it was full of arcane instruments Jemma couldn't name.

"Leave us, Lady Sif," Loki said. Jemma looked, terrified, at her ally, but Sif obviously didn't have the authority to deny the Prince, because she bowed slightly and gave Jemma an apologetic look before backing out and closing the door behind her.

Jemma stood frozen, a rabbit in the headlights, as Loki paced around her, his boots soundless on the stone floor.

"Interesting," he purred. "Ve-ry interesting. You have no magic, and yet there is  _something_  about you. I shall have to experiment."

His tone reminded her of Doctor Whitehall, and Jemma wanted to scream. Until Loki moved back around in front of her and looked down at her from those piercing green eyes. His face softened suddenly into a slight smile.

"Don't be afraid, little bird." He reached out a pale, long-fingered hand, glowing faintly green at the fingertips, and one finger touched under Jemma's chin, tipping her face up.

Jemma screamed. That  _hurt_ , that  _really_  hurt, icy cold flooding through her body. She went up on tiptoe, trying to pull away, but she couldn't. Loki was screaming too, his skin turning a weird shade of blue, odd markings appearing. He collapsed first, his hand falling from her face as he went to his knees, and Sif burst in, sword drawn.

"Doctor Jemma! Prince Loki?" she said uncertainly, seeing Jemma still standing and Loki on his knees.

"Get  _out_ ," Loki rasped, getting to his feet. "Now!"

The door slammed. Jemma looked up at Loki, his skin back to normal, and cringed as he reached for her again.

"It won't hurt this time," his voice was soft. His hand caressed her cheek gently. "Do you not understand?"

She shook her head numbly.

"You're my soulmate, little bird. You have no words on your body in the manner of your kind, do you?"

"No," she whispered.  _Loki_?  _Her_  soulmate?

A mirror appeared in mid-air, angled to show her the underside of her own chin, where his finger had touched, and a green-and-gold symbol there. "My sigil," Loki said quietly.

"What right have you to mark me?" she burst out but was silenced when he showed her the finger he'd touched her with, and her signature scrawled across it.

"Soulmate," Loki said quietly, incredulously. He'd had one brief glimpse into her mind before the bond hit and it was vast, as curious as his own. The universe had chosen well.

Somehow, Jemma was no longer afraid. Loki's green eyes were tender as he gazed at her, and as he stooped to claim her lips, her arms found their way around his neck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my start on the story! Enjoy!

Chapter Two:

"Loki!" Thor burst suddenly into the lab-or-was-it-a-study of the Jotun in question, causing Jemma to gasp and accidentally bite her soulmate's lip mid-kiss in her haste to put distance between them.

Thor froze where he stood in the doorway and Jemma stilled too, her hands falling quickly from around Loki's neck. Loki tensed irritably, licking his wounded lip as he turned towards Thor, still keeping a hand on Jemma's hip as he snapped, "Yes?"

"I-" Thor managed to stammer. "Lady Sif said she believed something to be amiss."

"She was mistaken," Loki ground out.

Thor looked uncertainly at Jemma, trying to ask, "Lady Jemma… is…"

"I'm fine, Thor," Jemma assured him calmly. "As a matter of fact, I'm better than fine." She beamed, declaring unabashedly, "I just found my soulmate!"

Thor's eyes doubled in size as he looked at Jemma, his gaze swinging slowly to Loki as comprehension set in. "Your soulmate is…? That is to say that-?"

"Yes, Thor," Loki said, looking like he was growing impatient with his brother's inability to quickly grasp the situation. "The lovely Dr. Simmons is my soulmate."

Thor didn't look pleased. Jemma found herself biting nervously on her lip. Was there some law against Asgardians and Midgardians being soulmates? Would Odin and Thor try to separate her from Loki? She didn't even know him, and she couldn't bear the thought. His hand on her hip was warm and firm as he held her close.

"Brother, I am truly glad for you," Thor declared after a few moments. "But – the Son of Coul is Dr. Simmons commanding officer. And, forgive me for pointing it out, but you killed him. I cannot see that he will be pleased by this development."

"Maybe they'll understand?" Jemma offered weakly. "Perhaps make an exception to their feelings toward him for the sake of my happiness?"

"In an ideal world, yes," Loki sighed as he looked down at her. "But unfortunately, neither your realm nor mine is what I would describe as such. Perhaps, however," Loki looked slowly back towards Thor, saying pointedly, "They would take to it better if someone smoothed the way for us?"

"How so?" Thor asked hesitantly.

"Couldn't you just go tell them that I'm safe?" Jemma asked Thor. "If you do that, Loki and I can spend a couple of days together here on Asgard, figuring each other out and, of course, how to best break the news to my team. You could tell them… that I'll meet them back at the base once they're done at Avengers' Tower. That will give us two days. Please, Thor?"

For a long minute, Thor studied the picture she and Loki made then he sighed, agreeing solemnly, "Very well, but I will only assure them of your safety; it's hardly my place to inform them of your finding your soulmate, Lady Jemma."

Jemma smiled a small, grateful smile, thanking him. The god of thunder nodded before exiting the room after telling them, "I'll go to Midgard now; your comrades will be worried for your safety, and it would be best to give them the information they need as soon as possible."

Once Thor was gone again, Loki pulled her flush against him, and as he leaned down to kiss her, Jemma couldn't help but mutter worriedly, "He's right, you know."

Seeing that her thoughts weren't on the same track as his at the moment, Loki stopped, his breath ghosting over her face, their mouths only an inch apart as he asked, "About what?"

"All of it," Jemma answered, staring at her hands where she let them rest on Loki's chest while she gave voice to the thoughts that had instantly begun swamping her. She was trembling slightly as she said, "Concern for my safety… but they still need to know."

"And we'll tell them -" Loki said evenly, his loose hold around her waist tightening protectively to show that he understood what she was really getting at. "Together." The firmness that had been in his voice a second ago was replaced by a pained hesitation as he asked, suddenly refusing to look at her, "But I must know, my darling Jemma… are-are you afraid for your safety?"

"What?" Jemma whispered, gasping with horror at the very idea as she realized what he meant. "Loki, no! Of course not! Look at me," she ordered, placing a hand on his cheek to ensure that her demand was carried out. Tumultuous eyes met her own as she said, "I am not afraid of you – of all things! You're my soulmate, and I don't want to be without you again! I love you, don't you understand that?" she asked, mimicking the question he'd asked her not an hour ago.

At that, he smiled, nodding as he moved one hand to the base of her skull and kissed her breathless.

When Jemma could no longer breathe for lack of oxygen, she pulled back grudgingly, regretfully pointing out, "Someone could walk in again."

Loki flicked his fingertips, the handle of the door flickered green, and he replied, "Now they won't."

"Loki," Jemma moaned, taking a half-step away from him. Not out of his embrace – she didn't think she'd ever want that – but just enough so that she could think clearly enough to say what needed to be said. "We only have two days to figure out how to broach this subject with my team – with Coulson – and it's extremely important to me that this meeting go well, and that they accept you-" she spoke slowly, softly, trying to adapt to the feeling of the words on her tongue as she spoke them. "And I… as us. Please, can we decide what to do?"

"As you wish," Loki murmured as she leaned her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he asked, "Do you have any suggestions?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

The next two days – spent learning everything she could about her soulmate, heart, mind, and body – passed far too quickly for Jemma's liking, and it wasn't long before she found herself at the base. It was evening when she came back with Loki – a tactical decision on Jemma's part. She knew that the team would be in the lounge, relaxing together off the clock, and that meant she could catch them all at the same time and only have to go through the explanation and possible argument once.

Walking together on silent feet towards the doorway of the lounge, holding hands all the while, Jemma smiled hesitantly at Loki and slipped her hand from his, leaving him out of sight around the corner as she went into the room.

She was surprised by the first thing that her eyes were drawn to – Thor; he was still here. After two days, she'd really expected him to have flown off to be by Jane's side for a little while, and learning what she recently had about soulmates, she wouldn't have blamed him in the least bit for it… but then again, this was his brother being put in the line of fire, and he'd want to be here to help.

For the briefest of moments their eyes locked, the nervousness in their gazes betraying them both during that second, before Jemma caught herself and looked away. Swallowing her nerves, or at least attempting to, she stretched a tight smile onto her face when Skye waved her over to an empty space by her on the couch.

"We're playing Scrabble," Skye announced. "And I'm actually winning this time!"

"Only because you just now showed up, Jemma!" Fitz pointed out with a smile. When Jemma didn't move towards the seat Skye had offered her, he asked, "Aren't you going to come play?"

"Actually…" Jemma felt herself start to stutter and then took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down before she said, "I have some news that I want to talk to you all about."

Shifting in his seat, Coulson – he looked so very comfortable in this moment; they all did, and Jemma hated knowing that it was going to end – said, "We're listening."

Jemma turned her attention momentarily to Thor, asking, "What exactly did you tell them?"

"Exactly what I said I would – that you were safe on Asgard and would return today. Nothing more, nothing less."

"What's wrong, Jemma?" Fitz asked, watching his friend carefully. "You're upset."

"No, just nervous," Jemma corrected.

"Did something unexpected happen on Asgard?" May asked warily.

"No, I was perfectly safe and perfectly happy; being on Asgard was the best trips I've ever taken."

"Please tell me you're not considering moving off-world," May muttered.

Jemma saw an opening there, saying, "I'm not sure; we haven't really decided what we're going to do yet."

Fitz caught the one important word in that sentence, repeating, "'We'?"

"I, uh, what Thor didn't tell you is why I stayed on Asgard a little longer." Jemma couldn't help the hesitant smile that crossed her face as she admitted, "I found my soulmate."

"On  _Asgard_?!" Bobbi spoke up, sounding and looking just as surprised as everyone else now did.

Jemma nodded, half-forcing her smile to stay in place as Coulson asked, "Who is he?"

For a long moment, Jemma just looked at him, focused on Coulson's face and the way he was looking at her – curious, pleased, and, yes, slightly concerned, but without a trace of any of the suspicion that she was sure was imminent – like they were friends. She wanted to memorize that look, but she knew that her window of opportunity for letting the cat out of the bag was quickly disappearing, so she stepped backwards until she was just inside the doorway and reached a hand out for the man still out of sight of the others on the opposite side of the wall.

Searching her eyes and wincing at the worry that she couldn't disguise from him, Loki took a deep breath and clasped her hand, stepping obediently into the doorway beside Jemma. Instantly Jemma swept her gaze across the faces of her team members, trying to catch all of their first thoughts, those split-second, honest, what-their-guts-told-them-to-feel emotions that were there and gone, but she couldn't register every one of them. She sensed more than saw May, Hunter, and Bobbi all drawing the guns that they kept on their persons, Skye yelped, Fitz paled with wide-eyed horror, and Coulson… Coulson just froze.

"Please try to understand," Jemma whispered directly to him.

All of the people in this room save for herself and Thor hated Loki with a burning passion, and yet it was Coulson that Jemma was truly worried for – not just that he would do something to Loki, but that something might happen to him.

"He's going to pass out," Skye said suddenly, her concerned voice breaking the silence and stillness in the room.

And she wasn't talking about Coulson, Jemma realized, head whipping around towards the person that Skye had just leapt up to help. Jemma didn't even think about it before she let go of Loki's hand and dashed to Fitz's other side and helped Skye maneuver him onto the couch. Lowering his head carefully onto the arm of the couch, Jemma realized that he was already unconscious and swore quietly under her breath as she settled onto her knees on the floor at his side.

"No, no, no," Jemma muttered, tapping Fitz's cheek a little roughly to try and rouse him. "Come on, Fitz, don't do this; I need you to wake up. Everything is fine, but I need you to snap out of it." She turned her head towards Skye, who was hovering over her shoulder, and ordered a little sharply, "I need cold water and a straw, now, please."

Skye obediently darted off, and it was only once the younger woman was gone that Jemma caught sight of Loki's face. He looked confused and the slightest bit afraid, but his eyes were narrowed a little on Fitz in a way that Jemma didn't like. He was pouting with jealousy, she realized as Skye skidded back into the room and handed her the water, a reminder that for the first time in their short relationship, Loki was going to have to come later.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

 

Taking the glass from Skye, Jemma put a finger over the top of the straw, trapping water inside until she moved said straw over Fitz’s forehead, letting the cold water sprinkle onto his face.

After repeating the process a couple of times, Fitz began to stir listlessly, and Jemma ran her fingertips over his shoulder for good measure, coaxing him back to wakefulness as she said again, “Wake up, Fitz.”

Fitz came to fully, opening his eyes slowly, and the first word out of his mouth was a mumbled, “Loki.”

“Yeah,” Jemma repeated softly, “Loki. He’s my soulmate.” The engineer groaned and struggled into a sitting position, irritably brushing off Jemma’s touch when she tried to keep him horizontal. Seeing the sparks in his gaze, Jemma asked him hesitantly, her hand still resting on his arm to make sure he stayed steady, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Fitz narrowed his eyes, asking pointedly, “What about you?”

“I’ve never been better,” Jemma replied, smiling sincerely as she said the words, daring to meet the eyes of every member of her team as she tried to convey the truth in them.

Fitz drew her attention back to him as he asked, his fingertips fluttering near her chin, “What’s that then?”

Still hovering near the two lab partners, Skye peered at the marking on Jemma’s skin and hazarded the guess, “A bruise?”

Jemma’s peripheral vision registered May flipping the safety off her gun while it was still pointed at Loki at the very implication in Skye’s question, and the biochemist couldn’t help the peevishness in her tone – she really should’ve kept Loki at her side – as she snapped, “For the love of god, no!” And then she almost cracked a smile at her own unintended choice of words, but decided to roll with it, declaring, “The god that loves me would _never_ hurt me.”

Coulson finally spoke then, muttering under his breath, “Couldn’t prove it by me.”

Still on her knees by the couch, Jemma looked around at every member of the team again, saying sincerely, “It’s different with me; I know him now and he’s different than he was in Manhattan! I promise you, I wouldn’t have brought him here if I thought he would hurt _anyone_ , least of all any of _you_! You’re all my family, and I love you – but I love him too.  I need you to be okay with this, and to trust that I am safe with him. These past two days, I have been genuinely happy… but right now I can’t be unless I know that you guys are okay with this.”

“’Okay’?” Skye’s voice was sharp and angry as she instantly spoke up at the end of Jemma’s impromptu speech. “You want us to be ‘okay’ with this? There is _nothing ‘_ okay’ with this situation, Simmons! Don’t you get it; don’t you _remember_?” Skye was towering over Jemma now, furiously stabbing the air in Loki’s direction as she continued, “ _He killed Coulson_! Think about it; if this team is supposedly like a family to you, then Coulson is definitely Dad. Would you really go somewhere with – entrust your _life_ to– someone who killed your father?” Jemma felt tears prick at the backs of her eye, nothing that by some miracle Loki was staying still and quiet, and because neither he nor Jemma elected to say anything, Skye bit out, “I say he already killed Coulson; he can’t be given a chance to ruin you too.”

“He’s not _going to_!” Jemma cried, suddenly surging to her feet. “He loves me; I love him! That’s a fact! This ‘ bruise’ is a clear indicator of that fact! It’s a sigil – _Loki’s_ sigil. I was marked with it the first time he touched me, right where he touched me, on my chin. My signature appeared on his finger at the same time I received the sigil.”

“Check if you like,” Loki said, opening his mouth for the first time since he came into the room as he stepped forward and held out his hand towards Skye while his other hand landed possessively at the small of Jemma’s back, explaining, “In other realms, people and their soulmates are marked at first touch, not from their soulmate’s birth.”

Skye glanced down at the proffered hand, her expression still pinched sourly, but Jemma saw – by the slight widening of her eyes and the coiling and release of tension in her shoulders – the moment she realized that it _was_ Jemma’s name scrawled there on the digit. Coulson’s youngest agent muttered an oath, looking hesitantly between Jemma and Loki as almost all of the fight seeped out of her.

The question was in Skye’s eyes, but it was Bobbi who ultimately spoke up and asked them, “This is for real, then? You two are actually soulmates?”

Loki and Jemma both nodded and Loki’s arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back against his front as the biochemist asked her team again, “Can you please be happy for us – for me, at least?” She slipped her hand into the one that Loki had flat against her stomach, looking lovingly up at him over her shoulder as she said, “He’s really a good guy; give him a chance, and you might just like him.” Jemma whipped suddenly around towards Fitz where he was still lying on the couch and declared, “You absolutely must spend time with him in a lab! He’s a genius, and I mean that very literally; you’d love how much you could learn from him, Fitz!”

“My love flatters me,” Loki muttered, meeting Fitz’s skeptical gaze and – good god, was her soulmate still sulking?! – looking like he wasn’t in much of a hurry to impress this particular member of her team.

“No, I don’t,” Jemma retorted. She almost called him out on the fact that he was just trying to avoid Fitz, who he had apparently decided not to like, but now wasn’t the time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

There would definitely be a conversation about Fitz later, but not now; now was the time to get her team calmed down. Or maybe, she realized as she scanned the room again, just calmed down  _the rest of the way._ Skye, Fitz, Hunter, and Bobbi all looked like they were now slowly getting a decent, non-freaked-out hold on the situation, which was good. Coulson, too was starting to breath normally again and he was returning to his normal complexion, which was good. May, Jemma saw, was finally turning her gun's safety back on and lowering it slowly, a thoughtful, far-away look in her eyes; for now she wasn't going to pose a threat to Loki.

Seeing that the immediate danger had passed, Jemma released a calming sigh as she informed them all again in a tone that implored them for understanding, "I really do love Loki."

The trickster god's chin rested lightly on the top of Jemma's head as he said in the same calm, nonthreatening tone he'd used with Skye, "And I truly do love Jemma. Your concerns are all more than understandable, but you have my word that I would die before harming her or allowing harm to come to her –  _or_  those whom she loves. She  _is_ safe with me, and none of you have anything to fear from me."

"If you can't take his word for it yet, then take mine," Jemma offered. "There's just something about being with your soulmate; it's the best feeling in the world, like there's no safer place on earth – or in any realm – and there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Coulson looked – for the first time really looked – at the picture that she and Loki made before his gaze switched to Thor and he demanded, "You'll ensure her safety whenever she's away from her team?"

Jemma fought the swell of irritation that wanted to rise up in her – after all, it was so clear to her that Loki was the best thing that had ever happened to her; it was hard to remember that the others probably couldn't see it like that… yet. It would take work, but she would show them, get them to the point of understanding how much he meant to her, how much she needed him.

Maybe Thor was fighting the same irritation that she was, because his answer was an even, "You have my word alongside Loki's."

Those last two words spoke volumes in Jemma's mind, and she adored the thunder god for them. Thor would respect Coulson and his position, but he wouldn't allow them to hurt Loki anymore than Jemma would. The small reminder of Loki's promise was also Thor's way of showing his support for Loki and Jemma, and it seemed to sooth the team, even coaxing a small smile from Coulson.

It really would be okay, Jemma realized as she glanced around again, at least for now. Maybe long enough for her to show Loki around the base? Couldn't hurt to ask.

"Coulson, do you mind if I give Loki a little bit of a tour?"

Coulson inhaled before he spoke, asking, "Where are you two going to stay tonight? Here?"

"Is that alright?" Jemma asked hesitantly. "If we use my room?"

Coulson nodded, suddenly looking exhausted as he shoved onto his feet, muttering, "Yeah. As a matter of fact, I'm going to go to bed a little early tonight. Good night."

With that, the shaken director was gone, and Jemma bit her lip, watching him go. Loki tilted his chin, kissing the top of her head and squeezing her hand, offering the only comfort he could think of in the moment to try and help her deal with the expectedly unpleasant reactions of her team mates.

Jemma smiled tumultuously up at him before tugging him back out the lounge doorway, going in the opposite direction as Coulson. She would give the director time to settle in his room for the night before she led Loki down the same hallway and into her bedroom. It wasn't until nearly an hour later that Jemma led Loki into her room, their hands still intertwined even after an hour as she shut her door and went so far as to flip the lock. After the events of this evening, some privacy would be nice for her and her soulmate.

And they still needed to have that conversation about Loki's unnecessary sulking...

Really, soulmate or not, she'd only known him for three days, though, and she wasn't sure how to go about this conversation without upsetting him further.

When he sat down on the edge of her bed, she sat down beside him and took a deep breath, trying to decide if she should just plunge right in.

Seeing her indecision even before she spoke, Loki reclaimed her hand, searching her face with his eyes. He used the finger her name was on to very deliberately touch his sigil on her chin and tilt her head so that she met his gaze as he asked, "What's troubling my little bird? I think that could have gone much worse, don't you?"

"Yes," Jemma replied. "It's not that; it's… you know that I love you, don't you?"

Now Loki looked even more concerned as he answered, "Yes, of course. I've been under that impression, that is." A small smile curved his lips as he teased her slightly, but Jemma wouldn't be swayed from her purpose.

"But you do understand that I have friends, some of them men, and some of whom I'm very close to, right?"

Loki's eyes hardened a little, but he nodded – giving her the  _right_ answer despite looking none too happy about it.

So Jemma cut bluntly to the point, declaring simply, "Fitz is nothing more than a friend – granted, before I met you, my best friend – but still only a friend. We were and are nothing more, nothing less; it's  _you_ who is my soulmate, and I don't want you to ever _, ever_ feel threatened by my friends.  _You_ are the one – the only one – which I want to be with… to spend the rest of my life with." She looked at him a little shrewdly, squeezing his hand and leaning her head over onto his chest as she asked gently, "Do you understand?"

She felt more then saw him nod as he answered, "Yes."

"And do you  _believe_ me?"

"Of course," he answered, sounding mildly offended at the idea that he would think she'd lied to him. His arms came around her then, holding her close as he murmured, "After all, there's no one else that I want that with but you either."

His marked finger reached to tip her chin up again. "I've never had anyone who was truly mine to be jealous over before, my Jemma. I can't say I like the feeling – but I understand, now you've told me, that I need not."

She smiled up at him, and Loki, his breath catching in his chest as it always did, always would, when she smiled at him like that, bent his head to brush his lips over hers. "Can we stop talking about your friends now, please, little bird?"

Jemma reached up, running her fingers into his sleek black hair and pulling his mouth back to hers. In this, at least, they would  _never_  be at odds.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Jemma and Loki had already decided while on Asgard than unless they were pushed to leave the Playground once they got back to her team, they weren't going to rush things – neither to leave nor to stay. They now felt that their place was at one another's side, and ultimately that meant that a decision had to be made. Either Loki would remain on earth, or Jemma would move to Asgard – and Loki staying on the planet that he'd tried to dominate just didn't seem like the best idea.

So a week after Jemma returned to the base, she found herself putting the very last of her things into a box while Skye sat cross-legged and dewy-eyed on her bed, telling her, "I don't want you to leave the team; we're your family."

"Yes," Jemma agreed, sliding the lid onto her box and folding herself down onto the bed across from Skye. "You are – and in some measure you still will be. That doesn't stop just because I'm no longer a part of the team. Any of you can come to Asgard for a visit any time you want."

Skye still looked unconvinced, asking, "Are you sure that you have to go?"

Jemma sighed softly, knowing that she wouldn't be able to explain it – this  _pull_ towards Loki; the  _need_ to have him in her life – not to someone who hadn't found their own soulmate yet. "Yes," she said instead. "I do. I  _want_ to. I  _need_ to be with him, Skye; one day you'll understand." Skye snorted, and Jemma narrowed her eyes, insisting, "You will! One day, I just know it."

Skye rolled her eyes, pointing out, "You already know I don't have a soulmark, Jemma. Maybe I'm just meant to be alone – after Ward, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Hey, stop that;" Jemma objected. "You never know.  _I_ didn't have a soulmark either, but look at me now; I'm the happiest I've ever been, and one day you're going to get this feeling too. Maybe the answer isn't as simple for you as for most people, but I'm a scientist, and I refuse to believe that there isn't an answer – a soulmate – out there for you."

"We'll see," Skye allowed skeptically – probably just because she figured that it was just best to concede the point rather than argue it.

"Indeed we shall," Jemma chirped, changing the subject by saying, "Promise you'll come see me?"

Skye nodded, a sad smile tipping at the edges of her mouth as she agreed, "I will."

"Good," Jemma answered, leaning over to give her friend a hug. "I know that this is hard, and it's going to keep being hard for awhile, but it'll all work out; you'll see."

Skye frowned ever so slightly as Jemma released her, murmuring, "We'll see."

Jemma stifled a sigh and reluctantly climbed off of the bed, hating to leave Skye in this mood, but knowing that the others were already waiting for her so that she and Loki could leave. At least she could look forward to her friends' visit.

"Come on," Jemma encouraged, tugging on Skye's hand. "See me off?"

Skye smiled hesitantly then as she agreed, and Jemma released her hand only once she was at Loki's side just outside the base. Seeing the sadness in his soulmate's eyes, he put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, raising an eyebrow in silent concern. She just barely shook her head and he took the hint, saying, "We'll be off then; thank you for hospitality… and forgiveness." Jemma's former team collectively nodded, Skye and Fitz both gave Jemma one more hug, and then Loki called out, "Heimdall!"

Then there was a flash of light rushing towards her and Loki and the spinning, floating, suctioning feeling of traveling on the Bifrost. It was something that Jemma wasn't sure she was ever going to get used to, despite Loki's assurances to the contrary, but at least he was there to steady her when she stumbled upon their landing.

Heimdall's deep voice filled her ears, helping to bring her back to the present as he said, "Welcome home, Prince Loki, Lady Jemma."

 _Lady Jemma._ That was another thing that she was going to have to get used to – although that one didn't flip-flop her stomach so much as the mode of travel.

Jemma took a deep breath, saying a little breathlessly, "Thank you, Heimdall," as Loki led her to the horses that awaited them. She must've looked worse off than she thought she did, because Loki took one glance at her and wrapped the reins of one horse around the horn of the saddle on the other and lifted her as if she weighed next to nothing onto the remaining horse and climbed up behind her.

"You'll get used to it," he promised in a soft voice as he nudged the beast into a lazy walk. "Now… are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

"I'm fine."

"M-hm. I'm the god of lies, little bird; I know when I'm being lied to. If  _you're_ fine, does that mean that someone else among your friends isn't?"

She sighed, leaning back into his chest as she replied, "Skye was feeling down when we left."

"I'm sorry," Loki murmured. "What ails her?"

"Loneliness. It… it gets to people sometimes when others find their soulmate."

"I gathered that she hasn't met hers yet?"

"It's more than that," Jemma murmured. "I think she's lost hope in ever finding anyone."

"Is she… unmarked?" Loki queried, hesitant because he realized just how personal of a question he was asking. Because of just how personal it was for her friend, they were both just fine with it when Jemma didn't even answer him. The hand that Loki had wrapped around her waist squeezed her in gentle encouragement as he said, "Don't let it get you 'feeling down', beloved. It'll work out for her; if someone like myself can find such happiness, I'm sure she will to."

Jemma rammed her elbow lightly back into his ribs, rebuking, "Don't talk about yourself like that!"

Loki kissed the top of her head, changing the subject as he said, "I know what may cheer you up. Frigga told me before we left that she and Thor are planning a party for this evening to celebrate your arrival."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Jemma told herself she wasn't nervous as she stepped into the grand ballroom later that evening. She absolutely, positively was not… but one shared glance with Loki, who was standing by her side, and she knew that she was doing a poor job of looking convincing in that respect. And the longer the evening drew on, the worse it seemed to get.

It wasn't that Jemma wasn't dazzled by the golden, fire-lit ballroom, the tables of gourmet-looking food that she didn't even want to attempt to name, or the fine clothing that both surrounded her and was exemplified in the dress that had been put on her earlier in the evening. It was more that she  _was_ dazzled… and starting to get thoroughly overwhelmed by it all. There was so much going on, and  _so many people_  – all of whom wanted to meet her and exclaim over her – that she was starting to get dizzy.

She had stayed firmly at Loki's side all evening – the only place she was truly comfortable in this crowded room – but now she couldn't help but take it a step further, looping her arm through his and all but clinging to him via that simple hold, suddenly very afraid that she might just crumple right there.

It was so hot in this room, and she suddenly would've loved to be back in the cool, quiet lab of the Playground, studying one of her many projects alongside Fitz.

As the thought came to mind, Jemma's eyelids fluttered –  _oh, lord, don't you dare faint, Jemma Simmons!_ – but before she could begin to sink, Loki was somehow behind her, one hand on her right shoulder, the other on her left hip, and unexpected bursts of cool air were coursing through her body.

 _How?_ The thought came to her mind as her legs became somewhat stable under her. She realized that Loki was excusing the two of them from the couple he had been talking with while she stood silently beside him, easily making some polite something up before his hold on her tightened and he guided her across the floor towards the quietest corner of the room.

His voice was warm in her ear, halting the last of the shivers that had suddenly run through her as he asked, "Whatever's wrong, my little bird? Are you ill?"

He dragged a chair with them into the corner that was his destination and made her sit, kneeling before her with concern plain in his eyes before she answered simply, waving her hand to indicate the party, "This isn't… it's a lot to take in."

"What do you need?" he asked immediately.

She took a deep breath and did a mental check over how she was feeling now before she shook her head, replying, "I'm fine now."

"You're certain? Do you feel faint?"

"Loki," she gave him the best smile she could manage, touched by his distress, and cupped his face in her hands, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips – they were still in a crowded room, after all – as she assured him, "I'm fine now. I just think I'd like to stay here for another minute and catch my breath, if that's alright?"

"Whatever you require. Shall I stay with you?"

She steeled herself and shook her head, pointing out, "This is a good chance for you to be sociable."

"Why, pray tell, should I be concerned with being sociable when my soulmate is unwell?"

"Because I'm not 'unwell,' I just need a little room to breathe my own air for a moment. And quite frankly it seems to me that making friends would be good for… your recovering reputation."

Loki rolled his eyes, asking fondly, "Why are you being more concerned with diplomacy than the man who was raised a prince?"

"Because I happen to be a scientist and I'm doing what my job requires and thinking logically. You need to be seen playing nice, you have an opportunity to do it," here she pushed gently on his shoulders, hinting for him to rise to his feet as she requested, "So take it – whether you want to or not. Honestly, Loki, I will be perfectly content right here by myself. We can't very well both be wallflowers at a party meant for us. Go; I'm just fine."

"I'll return in ten minutes," Loki compromised, standing to his feet despite his obvious unwillingness to leave her, but when Jemma nodded, he moved back into the crowd as ordered.

Jemma took a couple of deep breaths and looked around the room, feeling much more secure now that she wasn't in the middle of it all. She was frustrated with herself – for worrying her soulmate and for being such a  _wimp_ ; she had faced down an attempt on her life and lived to tell the tale, she should be able to handle a roomful of strangers! Yet she could practically  _hear_ Loki telling her to give herself time – that she in fact  _needed_ time – to adjust to this new life, so she forced her mind away from her little "spell" and looked around the room instead, searching for any familiar faces.

There, across the room, was Sif… and though she couldn't see them, she could hear boisterous laughter that she thought might have been Thor and Volstagg. It was hard to tell in this room so crowded with loud men. But there… there was a man she recognized standing at the banquet table, and actually managing  _not_ to be surrounded by people– for what might quite possibly have been the first time since she'd heard of him, since he'd been described to her as quite the extrovert. She rather envied Fandral the Dashing in that moment.

But then she got a good look at his eyes, and more importantly the emotions within them when he thought no one was paying attention. He looked exactly like Skye had before Jemma and Loki had left the Playground –  _had that really only been earlier today?_ His eyes held so much loneliness that he reminded her of an abandoned puppy. When she continued to watch, she saw what she had originally expected to see from him.

He waded back into the crowd with a sudden smile stretched across his face as he dropped down into a seat at the large dining table across the room… and then grabbed the nearest maid, pulling her down into his lap with a brassy smile and a kiss on the cheek. But Jemma knew what she'd seen; this was a lonely man.

But after living her whole life unmarked, yet still managing to find her soulmate only nine days previous, Jemma found that she now had a strong sense of hope for situations like Fandral's and Skye's. For people like them who were so obviously longing for someone to make that connection with… there just  _had_ to be a soulmate for them somewhere!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Marvel own all characters in this fic. And this particular one-shot is the work of ozhawk. It's the forty-ninth chapter of her collection of one-shots, "Soulmate Shorts," and was written into the same world as this story... so here it is! 
> 
> The premise goes like this: Loki, seeking to further reassure Coulson's team of Jemma's happiness and safety with him on Asgard, invites them for a visit. Coulson, May, Fitz and Skye agree to go along.

**I Will Never Let You Fall**

_Skye/Fandral_

Skydral

**Theme Song:**

**Creed – Higher**

_Wow, travel via Bifrost was really trippy_. Skye stumbled a few steps before recovering herself, and at that she did a lot better than Fitz who face-planted heavily. Thor hauled the engineer to his feet with a jovial laugh.

"Welcome to Asgard, my friends!"

 _It's very… shiny_ , Skye thought. Everything in view appeared to be made of gold, including the armour of the giant currently pulling a massive sword out of the mechanism in the middle of the chamber. Is that  _clockwork_? She glanced at Fitz, whose eyes were just about hanging out of his head.

May was watching the golden-armoured giant, as always watchful when someone was armed in her presence. He caught her looking and inclined his head slowly, moving to stand with the sword point-down on the ground at a sort of parade rest. That must be Heimdall, Skye realised.

"Come," Thor said cheerfully, "let us to the city, I know Lady Jemma is eager to see you again!"

Skye couldn't help but gasp at the beauty of the city before them. It seemed a long way away, though. Were they expected to walk? And then, coming fast along the Rainbow Bridge, she saw galloping horses, two with riders and the rest without.

"Oh  _no_ ," she said out loud, but was drowned out by the voices of the others, exclaiming in delight as they saw that one of the riders was Sif. The warrior maiden swung down off her horse and greeted them all enthusiastically. Skye sidled backwards, her eyes wide.  _Horses_.  _Oh God no_. She had a total phobia of the monsters. And the others all obviously didn't, happily accepting reins and swinging up into saddles, even Coulson in his dapper suit managing to make it look completely natural.

"M'lady?" she looked up to see that the other rider had dismounted and was standing before her, offering the reins of the last riderless horse. "Your mount?"

Throat closed with terror, she could only shake her head, eyes wide with panic.

"Can't you ride, Skye?" Fitz called.

"No. Nonononono."

The rider looked at her for a moment, and then reached up and removed the silver helm he was wearing, revealing a short mop of blond hair and lovely greenish-gold eyes in an exceptionally handsome face with a short blond beard. "Go on, Thor," he turned and tossed the reins of the riderless horse at Sif, who caught them. "I will bring the lady."

Skye pressed herself back against the wall, staring with terror as the other horses thundered away – leaving only the blond man and his own mount, a huge black beast standing quietly at his shoulder.

The rider surprised her then by dropping to one knee with a clank of his armour. "M'lady, I swear on my honour that no harm will come to you. My horse is sure-footed, and if you permit it I will hold you so that you do not fall."

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"I understand." He gave her an understanding smile. "We all have fears, do we not?" He grinned and said confidingly "I do not like spiders. Especially ones with hairy legs."

That made Skye choke out a laugh, and he smiled, encouraged. "I am Fandral, m'lady."

"Oh, the one Thor calls the Dashing? One of the Warriors Three?"

"Dashing is entirely a matter of opinion, m'lady." He winked.

"Ah, like that, is it? I'm Skye."

"The boon companion of Lady Jemma! I am honoured to make your acquaintance, Lady Skye." He took her hand gently in his armoured glove and lifted it to his lips.

Skye had never had her hand kissed before. She didn't expect to feel as though she'd been struck by lightning as his warm lips brushed her knuckles.

"Aieee!" she let out a pained squeal, snatching her hand away.

"By Odin's beard!" Fandral clapped his other hand to his mouth.

"What the hell!" Skye stared at her hand, at the golden runes etching themselves – painfully! – in under her skin, like a strangely metallic tattoo. "What did you  _do_  to me?"

He lowered his hand and she saw a light blue rune had formed right in the middle of his upper lip. "I fear the question is, what have we done to each other, my lady!"

A strange noise behind Skye made her turn, and she saw Heimdall –  _laughing_?

"Eh, Fandral, caught out by your own charm! No other woman would have you now, not with your soulmate's mark right there on your mouth; you'll be kissing no more maidens!"

" _What_?" Skye stared from Heimdall to Fandral in astonishment.

"That," Heimdall told her, pointing at Fandral's mouth, "is the Asgardian rune for  _sky_  – Lady Skye."

"Wait. What?  _Soulmates_?"

"Apparently." Fandral came to his feet, and she realised just how tall he was, nearly matching Thor in height, towering over her. He looked directly at Heimdall. "I'm not complaining. You know how long I've waited."

Heimdall inclined his head and went back into the chamber, leaving them alone. Fandral looked down at Skye. "We must go on to the city, Lady Skye. There will be time enough there for us to learn of each other."

She smiled a little shyly. And then remembered the damned horse. Fandral, seeing her eyes widen as she looked past him, turned and let out a low whistle.

Skye stared in amazement as the huge black steed dipped its muzzle to the ground and went to its knees.

"Here," Fandral's voice was suddenly warm in her ear, his mailed hands firm on her waist as he set her before the saddle and seated himself behind her, pulling her into his lap. "I will  _never_  let you fall, my lady."

Somehow, enfolded in his armoured clasp, his short beard brushing her brow as they galloped towards the city, Skye forgot to be afraid.

And so begins the tale of Fandral the Faithful and his Sky-maiden, heroes of Asgard and beyond…


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter for you that's been written by ozhawk.

**Chapter Nine**

Fandral held Skye closely against him as they thundered back along the bridge, looking down at her dark head nestled against his chest. _Mine. My soulmate_ , he thought incredulously. _So long_ …

Fandral was the oldest of the Warriors Three, older than Thor and Loki even, though his face was eternally young. Seven hundred years ago, Queen Frigga – may she rest in peace – had told him his soulmate would arise from Midgard. He’d gone to live there for a time, even loved an Earth maiden in one of the incarnations he’d lived, but never had he found the one who could complete him. And here she was, come to him – _risen from Midgard indeed_ , he realised with a rueful twist of his lips.

They arrived in the stable yard, and Fandral swung easily down from the saddle, lifting Skye with him. She clung to him, looking around with wide eyes at the spirited horses stamping and moving around them.

“Do not fear, my Lady Skye,” he kept his arm about her, guiding her to the palace door. “I would never let you be hurt. The horses of Asgard are spirited but exceedingly well-trained – they would not trample even one so small as yourself.”

She gave him narrowed dark eyes, but he’d made the last words teasing, and a reluctant smile kicked up the corners of her mouth. He considered kissing her, but now was really not the moment.

“Please, come with me. You and your friends must go before Odin, as must all visitors to the Realm, but Lady Jemma petitioned for you to be brought to her first, and outfitted with Asgardian finery. I will escort you to her chambers.”

“You – won’t leave me, will you?” Skye suddenly felt as though she didn’t want him out of her sight. It might have had something to do with the three women who had all undressed him with their eyes as he escorted her in from the stable yard. Not that he’d even glanced at any of them, his greenish-gold eyes fixed on hers.

“Never,” Fandral promised, his voice going husky at the look she gave him. He lifted one gauntleted hand and gently stroked a stray strand of hair back from her cheek. “Though no man is permitted within Lady Jemma’s chambers, on pain of death, I shall stand guard at the door until you are ready to come without.”

Skye blinked as he placed her hand gently on his arm and led her along wide, ornate corridors and up a sweeping flight of stairs. “No man is allowed in Jemma’s rooms?”

“Save for Prince Loki, of course. Our prince is very jealous of his beloved,” Fandral said with a grin. “The Son of Coul and Doctor Fitz will have been permitted to greet her in another chamber, in Loki’s presence, and then, well, I was supposed to escort them to the suites which have been prepared for your group. I daresay Thor will have taken care of it in my absence.”

They reached a pair of magnificently carved double doors, and Fandral knocked three times in a measured beat.

The doors swung open at once to reveal Sif, who gave Fandral a dark frown.

“What happened to you? What took so long?” She blinked, leaning closer, “Odin’s eye, what is _that_ on your mouth?”

“My soulmark,” Fandral said proudly. “The Lady Skye is my soulmate.”

“She…” Sif turned to Skye, her expression going from annoyed, to incredulous, to overjoyed. “Oh _Fandral_. I am so _very_ happy for you.”

Rather to Skye’s surprise, Sif embraced them both quickly. And then she sighed and shook her head at Fandral. “I still cannot allow you entrance. And the Midgardians must be brought before Odin within the hour, there is little time.”

“Be not distressed, Sif, I knew this must happen. I shall stand on guard here until I may escort my lady before the All-Father.” Fandral lifted Skye’s hand from his arm, pressed a kiss on it so their soulmarks touched again. The look in his eyes made her feel very warm inside. “Soon, my lady,” he said softly, his low voice a promise. And then he stepped back, drew the long sword sheathed across his back, and set its point between his feet, standing at attention.

“Come,” Sif grabbed Skye’s arm and pulled her into the room, closing the door. “I know he’s very pretty and you don’t want to take your eyes off him, but you’ll have time for staring _later_.”

Skye’s head cleared, now that Fandral was no longer standing right in front of her looking all knightly and fantastically gorgeous. “Um. Yeah.”

“Skye!” she heard Jemma’s shriek of delight and turned to see… a Disney princess.

“Holy crap, what are you wearing?”

“Oh, this old thing?” Jemma giggled and kicked at the skirts of her long, stunning forest green gown. Embroidered over the bodice with silver, it looked absolutely amazing on her. “Asgardian court dress.”

“Lady Jemma,” Sif said urgently.

“I’ve told you and _told_ you to just call me Jemma, Sif…”

“And Loki has made it clear that any who do not show you the utmost respect will no longer own a tongue, _Lady Jemma_. I am quite fond of mine, thank you all the same. Even in private, it will not to do to get into a habit I cannot afford.”

Jemma sighed, her lips tightening. “That man. I will have _words_ with him. _Again_. Oh, Skye,” she reached to embrace her friend. “I am so glad you came.”

“So am I,” Skye’s eyes were almost glowing with happiness, Jemma realised. “Oh Jemma – you were right.”

“I’m always right. What was it about this time?” Jemma said laughingly, linking her arm through Skye’s and leading her towards the inner room where seamstresses were hastily fitting a stunning black-and-silver gown to a very disgusted-looking May.

“I found my soulmate. Jemma – it’s Fandral.” Skye couldn’t believe it, still. She held up the golden runes on her hand to show her friend.

Jemma stared for a moment with her mouth open, and then let out a scream of joy and hugged her. “Oh Skye, oh my god that’s so wonderful! Fandral’s so _lovely_.” She caught Sif’s expression and made a face at her in return. “Not that I know him very well because Loki’s impossible about me talking to any other men who aren’t bonded already, especially one with Fandral’s oh, um.” She stopped suddenly. She’d been about to say _reputation_.

“Fandral’s oh um what?” Skye looked curiously at Jemma as another pair of seamstresses descended, two beautiful Asgardian women who tugged at Skye’s jacket until she removed it, recognising ruefully that she might as well just give in. If Melinda May was being forced into a dress, Skye had no hope of resisting.

“You’ve met Lord Fandral, m’lady?” one of the women said with a smirk. “He’s so dashing!”

“So good with his _sword_!” the other one added, and then they both giggled.

Skye suddenly felt cold.

Jemma paled and looked at Sif.

“Hush your chattering tongues,” Sif said sharply. “The Lady Skye is Lord Fandral’s newly found soulmate, and she is the boon companion of Lady Jemma. You would not want to risk Prince Loki’s wrath now, would you?”

Both women went white and curtsied hastily, murmuring apologies in almost frantic tones, looking from Skye to Jemma.

“It’s all right,” Jemma said soothingly. “I will not mention it to Loki. Unless it should happen again.” She smiled meaningfully. “Now, I believe the teal-blue gown will suit Lady Skye best?”

“Word will spread quickly,” Sif murmured, “none will dare speak of Fandral in your presence again, Lady Skye.”

“What is it you’re trying so hard not to let me know about?” Skye had to ask, her voice quavering. Jemma didn’t speak, only busied herself folding Skye’s jacket unnecessarily and putting it on a chair. It was Sif who told her the truth.

“Fandral isn’t called the Dashing for nothing, Lady Skye.”

“Please call me Skye,” she begged. “Loki hasn’t threatened you over me, has he?”

Sif smiled. “No. Though Fandral might. As you wish, Skye, and you must call me Sif.”

Jemma huffed, and they distinctly heard “…will have _words_ with Loki,” as she walked away to the women attending May.

“So,” Skye muttered, sitting down on a convenient chair and taking off her boots, “the Dashing.”

“He is charming, and has always used his charm and good looks like a rapier. Another tool in his arsenal,” Sif said it simply. “And perhaps you do not realise how old he is, Skye. Fandral is older than I; older than Thor and Loki. He has waited for you for more than sixteen hundred years.”

Skye’s mouth fell open.

“He never married. Queen Frigga, may she rest in peace, told him long ago that a woman of Midgard would be his soulmate and he spent many years there searching, though it availed him naught.”

Sif sighed, studying a bit of cloth she’d picked up and was playing with. “Fandral never married, though none would have blamed him for doing so, having waited so long. There was a maid he loved once, but she died so long ago I do not even recall her name.” She tapped a long, elegant finger on her lips. “Mary? Marianne? It was in his phase where he was playing at being an archer. Made quite a name for himself on Midgard as I recall, the hooded man with impeccable aim.”

“Wait,” Skye’s mouth was still hanging open. “Robin Hood? You’re saying _Fandral_ was _Robin Hood_? And – Maid Marian was _real_?”

“That was her name!” Sif snapped her fingers and nodded. She tilted her head and looked at Skye consideringly. “She looked rather a lot like you, actually. Perhaps Fandral’s soul saw something in her, a forerunner to you.”

“He loved her?”

Sif shrugged. “I suppose. He would not marry her, though, and in those days – well, it was very much frowned upon for her to be his leman.”

“Leman?” Skye frowned at the unfamiliar word.

Sif bit her tongue. _When_ would she learn to be quiet? “Mistress.”

“Oh!”

“She was well-born, in the end she left Fandral and married another.” Sif hunkered down and looked Skye in the eyes. “Skye, this was some _seven hundred years_ ago. In all those years, Fandral has flirted and dallied, yes, but no woman has held his heart. He has always looked longingly at those with soulmates and spoken of how much he wished to find his own. You have no need to feel insecure or wary of his loyalty. I saw the way he looked at you, and you have only just met. He will be faithful to you now until the day of his death.”

The two women had returned, very subdued, but still smiling politely. They held out a dress for Skye’s approval, and her throat closed, because it was every bit as beautiful as the gowns Jemma and May were wearing, a deep teal blue with dark bronze embroidery. She nodded, a bit numb with the shocks of the last hour, and let them lace her into it, arranging her hair in a complicated knot of braids, sitting her down and applying light, subtle makeup that somehow transformed her face to glowing beauty.

Sif stayed by her side throughout, occasionally murmuring a suggestion, and at the end Jemma came over, putting her hands on Skye’s shoulders and looking at her in the mirror.

“You look stunning,” she said sincerely, and Skye reached up to cover Jemma’s hands with her own.

“Thanks to you.”

Jemma smiled, and from the folds of her skirts produced a slim leather case. “Here. I have no doubt Fandral will shower you with jewels, but Loki and I want you to have this.”

‘This’ turned out to be a stunning necklace of fine silver circular links, each one centred with a tiny, glowing green gem. It looked amazing with the gown Skye was wearing.

“There’s a little bit of magic in it,” Jemma half-apologised. “While you have it with you, Loki – or Heimdall – will always be able to find you. I wanted to make sure my friends are safe…”

Skye stood and hugged her. Laughing, Jemma hugged her back. “Come. We haven’t much time.”

“Odin does not like to be kept waiting, and no doubt we will have to wait at least a minute or two while Fandral picks his jaw up off the floor after seeing Skye,” Sif joked.

“What’s that?” finally released, May came striding over, her skirts swishing around her. “Oh – damn,” as she discovered her usual long stride was hobbled. “Shit, this is worse than heels!” she glared at Sif. “ _You’re_ wearing armour. What was wrong with my Kevlar?”

“Lady Melinda, I am a member of the Palace Guard. No other may be armed or ready for war beneath this roof, I am sorry.”

“Humph,” May scowled and looked at Skye. “Now what did I hear you saying about soulmates?”

“I found mine,” Skye said, still scarcely able to believe it. Sif opened the doors, and there he stood, tall and straight. He turned and smiled at Sif, sheathing his sword across his back again, and then his eyes fell on Skye.

He was down on one knee in a moment, fist clenched at his heart and his heart in his eyes as he gazed at her, and Skye realised Sif was right. She really didn’t have anything to worry about.

“My lady,” Fandral whispered as Skye came to stand before him, a vision of beauty. He took her offered hand and pressed his lips to it, then his brow to her wrist in a symbol of utmost respect. “I am not worthy of you.”

“Oh, please get up,” she half-laughed, “and stop talking nonsense. I’ve just found out that you’re actually my childhood hero. Robin Hood,” when he looked at her askance.

“Sif has been telling tales,” he said wryly.

“She does that,” another voice said, and they turned to see Loki approaching, Fitz and Coulson at his side.

Skye’s eyes almost fell out. “Oh my God, Coulson’s wearing leather pants.”

“Could be worse, could be tights,” Fitz said with a grin. He actually looked quite comfortable in leather pants, a grey silk shirt and a sort of leather waistcoat laced up at the sides, Skye had to admit. Coulson – did _not_.

“I am just very, very glad that you weren’t allowed to bring your cellphone and that there can be no photographic evidence of this,” Phil said grimly to Skye, who started to laugh.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter by ozhawk.

Loki only quirked a black eyebrow when Jemma excitedly told him about Skye being Fandral’s soulmate, and looked at the couple staring into each others’ eyes.

“Interesting,” he murmured quietly. “It seems that Midgardians and Asgardians are more compatible than anyone had previously suspected. I daresay a good number of my people will be looking on Earth for their mates now, if Odin will permit.”

“It’s so _interesting_ ,” Jemma said, happily placing her hand on his offered arm. “Makes me wonder if all the Unmarked on Earth are actually meant to be paired with people from another realm.”

“Why do I have the sinking feeling that you are even now contemplating setting up some sort of inter-Realm matchmaking agency?” Loki murmured.

“That,” she smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling, “is a _wonderful_ idea!”

He stopped walking.

“A joke, Loki! You’re not the only one allowed to make jokes and play pranks, you know. And you deserve a bit of grief today because I’ve just found out that you threatened even Sif if she didn’t call me _Lady_. And what was that nonsense about Coulson and Fitz not being allowed to enter my chambers? It wasn’t as though I planned to take them into my bedroom, anyway!”

Skye had to smile as she heard Jemma’s voice getting higher and more irritated as she told the god off. And Loki was actually taking it, hanging his head slightly and looking away from his soulmate’s annoyed expression. _He really does love her_ , Skye thought, and another little bit of her worry for Jemma seeped away.

They entered the throne room, but there was no formal announcement as they made their way towards the front of the room, where Odin was seated on his throne, talking to Thor who stood beside him. And to Skye’s surprise, here she saw perhaps a little of Loki’s reasoning, because there were men in the room who looked at him with an expression of barely concealed distaste, that morphed into something like jealousy when they looked at Jemma.

Loki’s actions had come back to haunt him.

“I will not tolerate open disrespect to you,” Loki said, loudly enough for most of the room to hear. “You know I care little for anyone’s opinion of me but yours. But if I ever hear any man call you a Midgardian whore again I will tear him limb from limb.”

“Someone called her _what_?” It was May who lost her temper first, though the others weren’t far behind.

“It wasn’t to my face,” Jemma tried to placate May.

“It was to mine,” they’d reached Thor, who stepped forward with an unusually grim expression on his face and spoke quietly, for once. He made a production out of bowing deeply to Jemma, and then respectfully to the rest of them. “A nobleman who hoped to procure a royal alliance through one of his daughters. He disrespected both Lady Jemma and my Lady Jane. My brother is particularly annoyed in that he is not the one who exacted revenge for the insult.”

“I hope it was messy,” Skye said, surprising herself with how bloodthirsty she felt about it.

“It was certainly final,” Odin spoke for the first time, and they all turned to him, hastily executing bows and curtsies in varying degrees of gracefulness. His single ice-blue eye settled on the closeness between Skye and Fandral, her hand on his arm, and he watched them even as Thor performed introductions.

Odin didn’t look as old as she’d expected, Skye thought. But then, Thor had told them that Loki managed to maintain the illusion that Odin was on the throne for months, long enough for Odin to have a true Odinsleep and refresh himself fully. He looked like a vigorous man around Coulson’s age, though his face was sad and she remembered that it was less than a year ago that he had lost his beloved wife, and a good deal less than that to Odin who had slept much of that time away.

When it came her turn to be introduced, therefore, Skye curtsied deeply, as best as she could manage – _how the hell had Jemma made that look so easy?_ – and said;

“I was greatly sorrowed to hear of the loss of your queen, All-Father. Thor spoke of the Lady Frigga to us and her loss is a tragedy to all the realms.”

Odin stared at her for a long moment, and Skye had the terrible feeling she’d overstepped some sort of boundary. But then a slight smile curved his mouth.

“It is your mark upon Fandral’s lip, is it not, _Lady_ Skye?” he said, loudly enough for the whole room to hear, and with clear emphasis on the title. “You are very welcome to Asgard. Fandral has long been a stalwart servant of the throne and we are glad to see him finally receive his just reward.”

Skye returned his smile as Fandral’s hand settled possessively on her elbow. Startled whispers were running around the room already, the noise level slowly rising until Odin suddenly stood.

“Come,” he said. “I wish to get to know my sons’ friends privately.”

He’d dropped the royal _we_ , Skye realised, and it was obviously a mark of respect, because the noise died down. Momentarily, anyway, until they’d followed Odin from the room and the doors had closed behind them. Then the roar of voices from inside rose to a crescendo.

Odin led them to a large, private chamber. A table was laid with food and drink, and he turned to Coulson and nodded.

“I have long wished to make your acquaintance, Son of Coul. Both my sons have spoken highly of your courage.”

Coulson couldn’t help a look at Loki. “Thank you, All-Father,” he said politely. “We are all honoured by your invitation to Asgard.”

Odin’s mouth twisted in a grim smile. “I only regret that your welcome will not be warmer. Perhaps I erred in forbidding interaction with Midgard all those years ago. Too many of my people still view yours as ignorant savages.”

“Father,” Loki said quietly, “you were correct. We were holding them back. Within thirty years of withdrawing ourselves entirely from Midgard, the Industrial Revolution began,” he told Coulson. “Man’s ingenuity was awakened, once there was no longer magic in your world. Men have evolved to become our equals, and in many ways more, since they do not have the leisure of our long lifespans in which to make their discoveries.”

They were all – except Jemma, Skye noted – gaping at Loki when he finished. He really had changed his tune, Skye realised, from the god who believed humanity were cattle, born to be ruled. Was it Jemma alone who had changed him, or had she perhaps been merely the final piece to the puzzle?

Odin smiled, and reached to put a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Well said, my son,” he said quietly.

Thor was beaming too, obviously delighted that Loki had come to realise that Midgardians were indeed worthy of Asgard’s respect. Until Odin turned to him and frowned.

“You have not helped matters, Thor.”

“Father?” Thor looked startled.

“Nor you, Loki. I understand your desire to protect your Lady Jemma, and to avenge any insult done to her. But the fact remains that you are behaving hypocritically. You bar all men from her chambers, and yet spend every night within. You threaten with grisly death any who do not speak of her with utmost respect and yet you kiss and touch her where any may see you.”

Loki looked suddenly stricken. “Father…”

“I am not done speaking, Loki. Thor is just as bad. You spend every minute that your duties permit on Midgard with Lady Jane. I understand her reluctance to come to Asgard after what happened the last time she was here, but you must see that to our people, it looks as though you merely amuse yourself sporting with your mortal mistress.”

Thor’s face twisted with rage. “If any dare to speak of my Lady Jane so…” he began, until Odin cut him off.

“They dare because _your_ actions make it appear so!” He turned to Skye, that icy-blue eye hard. “It is my understanding that on Midgard today, men and women cohabit without censure. It is not so on Asgard, and nor will it be so while I am King!”

The room was silent as Odin’s words rang out. Jemma was red-faced and hanging her head, and Skye felt her cheeks flushing as well, because she’d been having utterly filthy thoughts about Fandral and what she wanted to do when she finally managed to get him alone. She chanced a sideways look at him from under her lashes. He was standing still and straight, watching Odin with an expressionless look on his handsome face – until his eyes slid sideways to catch Skye’s gaze, and he _winked_ at her.

Even redder, Skye snatched her eyes away and focussed on Odin, who had turned away from them for a moment, and now walked over to Jemma and took her hands in his in a gesture that obviously surprised her.

“You are as a daughter to me,” Odin said gently, directly to Jemma. Her eyes widened. Every time she’d been in the All-Father’s presence he had been nothing but kind and welcoming to her, but this display of sentiment was new. “I cannot tell you how glad I am that you and Loki have found each other, and that you see beyond his past misdeeds to accept him for the man he is now.”

Jemma smiled, a little tremulously. “I love him, All-Father. I always will.”

“I know. I see your heart. And I do not censure _you_ for following the customs of your people, daughter. My disapproval is reserved for my sons. _Their_ actions have exposed you and Lady Jane to gossip and insult. I will have no more of it.”

“Father, no!” Loki obviously guessed what was coming, but Odin carried on, ignoring his outburst.

“Thor, you shall go to Midgard with the Lady Sif to act as chaperone, and bring Lady Jane here to take her rightful place among our people. A ceremony shall take place nine days hence in which Asgard will gain two new princesses. And until that time, _all_ maidens of Midgard shall be sequestered from private male company. You may meet with them only in public places, and there will be _no_ inappropriate displays, Loki, am I making myself clear?”

Loki was looking utterly disgusted, but bowed his head in acquiescence to Odin’s edict.

“Wait a minute,” Skye couldn’t help but burst out. “Are you saying I’m not allowed to be alone with Fandral?”

“Despite his reputation,” Odin said, “of which you have no doubt heard by now, Fandral is the most honourable of men. I do not doubt that _he_ would have courted you properly. I regret, Lady Skye, that I can no longer permit you the luxury of that. For the future safety of all Midgardian women,” his eyes slid over to May, “I must make it clear to my people that you are not to be trifled with. Lest I have to ask the Valkyries for an honour guard for any unattached woman who comes to this realm, and order that the Bifrost to Midgard be closed.”

“You’re saying that it would be open season on Earth women if you don’t make it clear that’s not allowed,” May said thoughtfully.

“That is correct, Lady Melinda. And while I know of your reputation as a warrior…”

“I’m no match for an Asgardian,” she said bluntly. “Especially without guns.”

“You took _all_ her weapons?” Odin frowned at Sif.

“Your standing orders are that none may be armed unless they are part of the palace guard, Your Majesty…”

“I will not leave these women defenceless. Arm them,” Odin ordered Sif. “I must ask a good deal of you, Lady Sif, to safeguard their honour until the weddings…”

“Wait, what, _weddings_?” Jemma gasped. Loki winced.

“Surely you understand there can be no other way?” Odin turned to Jemma. “Quite apart from anything else, I _will_ not permit a potential heir to the Asgardian throne to be born illegitimate.”

Jemma’s hand flew to her stomach. “ _What?_ I’m not…”

“Not you, Lady Jemma. Not yet, anyway, though not for lack of trying on Loki’s part, I believe.” Odin turned to Thor and gave him a hard look.

Thor’s mouth fell open.

“So she did not yet tell you.”

“ _Jane?_ ” Thor actually looked as though he might collapse. Loki braced him with an arm across his back and a murmured congratulations.

“Bring her here, Thor. I am afraid that she no longer has the luxury of choice.”

Coulson winced. “I wonder if I might be permitted to accompany you, Thor? I know Doctor Foster quite well…”

“Go,” Odin waved at the door, and Thor, Coulson and Sif left hastily. Odin turned his attention back to Jemma. “You will marry Loki in nine days, Lady Jemma, at the midwinter feast. Consider it a command from the throne if you wish.” He turned then to Skye, looked from her to Fandral. “If it is your wish to be married at the same time, Lady Skye, then you are welcome. But know that until the two of you _are_ wed, then you will not be permitted to be alone together at any time.” He nodded regally and swept from the room. About five minutes later, when they were all still staring at each other in shock, two tall blond women in armour similar to Sif’s filed in and took up positions on either side of the door.

May looked at Fitz, and then at the two couples. “Come on, Fitz. They might not be allowed to be alone but we can at least give them some privacy to talk.” She tugged on his arm lightly, drawing him over to the table laid with food and drink. “So what do you think this is?” She picked up a curious-looking red fruit.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is yet another chapter written by ozhawk! If you're enjoying reading this story, I'd encourage you to go take a look at the other continuations of her "Soulmate Shorts" and that set of one-shots itself, if you haven't yet. Maybe you'll even read one that inspires you to write a continuation yourself! There's still around 60 free for the asking last time I checked; go check them out!

**Chapter Eleven**

"I understand you're not ready to marry me," Loki said a little uncomfortably, as Fandral and Skye withdrew to the opposite side of the room, "but short of me doing some things that are highly likely to get me into enormous trouble, which you keep telling me I need to avoid, I'm afraid we can't get out of it."

"You  _want_  to get out of it?" Jemma asked in a small voice.

"No!" Loki passed a hand across his brow, disgusted to note that he was sweating. "I love you," he eventually found some words he hoped would make her understand. "I knew this would happen, that eventually… I just…" he ran out of words again.  _Where the hell was his silver tongue when he really needed it?_  "Damn Odin anyway!"

A very small smile began to curve the edges of Jemma's mouth. "I can't say it's exactly how I expected a proposal to go," she said, and gave him a pointed look.

Loki wasn't dense. He hit his knees hard dropping to them, taking her hands in his. "Will you marry me and keep me on the straight and narrow, Jemma Simmons?" he asked fervently.

"I'll consider it." She gave him an arch look, and lowered her voice to speak for his ears alone. "You have apparently been dishonouring me. Thoroughly and regularly."

His green eyes gleamed up at her. "I seem to recall you were a more than eager participant in said debauchment." He kissed her hand – or to anyone else in the room it would have looked as though he did, since he cast a tiny illusion to make it seem so. In actuality he sucked her finger into his mouth and licked at it wickedly.

"Behave," Jemma pulled her hand away. "Nine days, remember?"

"Which will be the longest nine days of my life," Loki murmured, standing up. "I have grown accustomed to having you in my arms. Indeed, I am sure that I could use my illusions to bypass your guards…"

"You will do no such thing," Jemma said firmly.

"Why not, little bird? Will you not miss my touch as well?" He was standing a respectful distance away, but his voice was low enough no one else could have heard, his green eyes heated as he looked at her.

Jemma gulped. "You know I will. But it wouldn't be fair, to Skye," she nodded across the room, to where Skye and Fandral were sitting side by side on a low bench, their hands not quite touching. "Or to Jane Foster."

Loki sighed. Lifted his marked finger to lightly brush her chin. "As you wish, little bird. Though on our wedding night you should be prepared. I shall wish to make up for lost time."

Jemma tried not to blush, because the two Valkyries at the door were watching her with hard, judging eyes. She walked away from Loki instead, joining May and Fitz who were arguing amicably at the table. "That's not a pomegranate, it's a  _jern_  fruit, Fitz. Tastes a bit like a strawberry."

Fandral had led Skye over to the bench, in clear view of the two hard-eyed Valkyries, and sat down at a respectful distance from her. Though he stripped his gloves off and set his hand down so close to hers she could actually feel the warmth of it.

"So," she looked up at him through her lashes. "This is – awkward."

"It is," he admitted. "I was hoping that we should have time to get to know each other. Though the All-Father is correct, Lady Skye, I would not have dishonoured you. I cannot say that I approve of the way Thor and Loki have behaved with their soulmates, and though it is perhaps not my place to approve or disapprove of their actions, I did make my opinion clear." His greenish-gold eyes met hers squarely. "Though I am ashamed to say now that I did not understand just how much the presence of my soulmate would –  _affect_  me."

"Oh." She stared at him, a little puzzled. "But – your reputation…"

He looked wounded. "I am known as Fandral the Dashing, not Fandral the Despoiler of Maidens!"

" _Oh_." Across the room, Skye glimpsed from the corner of her eye Loki dropping to his knees in front of Jemma. She could guess exactly what was happening there. She kept her eyes politely averted and looked at Fandral. "Soulmate or not, I don't think I want to marry you in nine days."

"It shall be as you wish, my lady." He actually looked  _disappointed_.

"I'm not ready. I don't  _know_  you," Skye felt the need to explain herself.

"I understand." He hesitated. "The fact remains, though, that if you leave Asgard, I will not be permitted to follow you. Midgard will be forbidden to all, but most especially to me, until Odin is certain that his edicts will be obeyed."

Skye bit her lip. She didn't want that. She  _really_  didn't want that. On the other hand, would she be permitted to stay on Asgard, once Jemma was married? Odin would have to assign guards and chaperones to her…

"Let me think about it?" she compromised. "I don't have to make up my mind right now, do I?"

"I have waited a very long time for you, my lady." He picked up her hand, kissed it in that courtly gesture again, and guided her to her feet. "I will wait however much longer you need to make your decision – though this wait will be far more painful now that I know."

"Now that you know what?" Skye looked up at him, puzzled, as he placed her hand on his arm and escorted her over to join the others.

His eyes met hers. "Now that I know how very much I desire you." It was a husky whisper for her ears alone, and Skye found her knees going weak even as her cheeks blushed scarlet.


	12. We Are So Doomed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jemma/Jane Foster Platonic  
> The Science Sisters   
> Theme song:  
> Eurythmics – Sisters Are Doin’ It For Themselves  
> This is the seventy-second of ozhawk's "Soulmate Shorts," and it fits perfectly in here, so here you have it. Enjoy!

Jane hadn’t been expecting Thor back for a couple of days, since she knew he was escorting some of Coulson’s team to Asgard to visit Jemma and Loki. He’d pressed her to go along, but Jane honestly wasn’t ready yet. Not after the last time she’d been there and Queen Frigga had died defending her. How could she possibly face Odin – who already disapproved of her for being Thor’s _human_ soulmate – after _that_?

 _Would she ever be ready?_ Jane mused, dragging herself slowly out of bed. She’d slept in that morning – well, afternoon – since she had, as usual, been in the lab until the early hours of the morning.

All right, she’d been there until sunrise when Bruce came in from his dawn yoga and all but threw her out.

It was just all so _interesting_. Her stomach churned as she headed to the bathroom and she groaned.

“Not again! I even ate dinner!” Tony had come by with pizza about midnight and the pair of them had sat up late doing crazy maths and building things.

 _Oh God, yes again_ – she barely made it to the toilet before emptying her stomach. She was sitting on the floor, resting her forehead against the cool tile wall and feeling thoroughly miserable when Thor’s booming voice filled the apartment.

“Jane? Are you here?”

 _Fantastic, I’ve just spewed my guts up for no apparent reason and my god-boyfriend turns up_ … but it was Sif who appeared in the doorway, looking down at her.

“Lady Jane? Oh dear – she is suffering from the morning nausea, Thor.”

“What do you mean, the morning nausea?” Jane said weakly as Sif picked her up easily.

Sif sighed as she laid Jane gently down on the bed. “Damn Odin. _You_ didn’t even know,” she muttered. “You’re with child, Lady Jane.”

“I’m _what_?” Jane’s shriek echoed around the apartment.

It took the combined efforts of Sif and Phil – Jane started throwing things at Thor – to calm her down from _that_ revelation. And then Phil had to break it to her that Odin had ordered her to Asgard to get married.

“I’m not going,” Jane said mutinously. “And you can’t make me.”

Sif arched a black eyebrow. Jane felt like an idiot. Of _course_ they could make her.

“Jane,” Phil said, not unkindly, “You’re carrying the next heir to Asgard. I’m not sure how their inheritance laws work – especially considering Loki’s status – but Odin is adamant that Thor’s child won’t be born illegitimate. Plus,” he glanced at Sif and coughed, the tips of his ears turning red, “apparently Asgard’s moral code is rather more, uh, _old-fashioned_ than I’d realised. There have been incidences of disrespect shown to Jemma because she and Loki are cohabiting, and some, um, not-nice things said about you.”

Jane thought about that, her eyes narrowing. “Thought you guys were supposed to be so advanced?” she snapped at Sif. “Oh, get in here,” as she spotted Thor hovering outside the door. “I can read between the lines that this wasn’t _your_ insane idea, for once.”

He gave her his sad-Labrador look and she couldn’t help but soften.

“I don’t have any choice, do I?”

“I’m sorry, my Jane,” he knelt beside the bed and took her hand. “But only in that you feel you have no choice. I have made it clear to you time and again that I want no other but you for my princess.”

“Princess, oh hell,” Jane muttered. “How’s Jemma taking that?” She and Jemma had never spoken, but Jane remembered glimpsing her on the tour of the labs that had barely begun before Jemma accidentally stumbled into Asgard and found herself soulmated to Loki.

“Probably not much better than you,” Coulson said dryly.

Jane grinned. “I do think I’m going to like her.” Thor had told her laughingly that Jemma took no shit from Loki. Which Jane was very much looking forward to seeing.

“We have orders to escort you to Asgard immediately,” Sif said.

“Well it can wait until I’ve had a shower and changed!” Jane said firmly, “because I’m not going to Asgard in Iron Man pyjamas smelling of puke!” She pointed at Thor. “Go break the news to the others.”

“As long as you promise never to wear those pyjamas again,” Thor muttered, getting up.

“I wouldn’t have been if you were here, but I was cold!” Jane took in Coulson and Sif, both blushing. “Okay, forget I said that. You two go wait outside. I won’t be long.”

Half an hour later they were on the Bifrost, heading for Asgard. Jane sat before Thor on his saddle – he’d flatly refused to let her ride alone now he knew she was pregnant, and WHOAH still dealing with that idea. Thor’s huge hand curved protectively over her stomach, holding her on his lap, and she could already tell he was going to be a completely impossible prospective father.

Sif led them to a chamber Jane didn’t recognise, thankfully. She suspected that seeing anywhere where she’d spent time with Frigga would lead to a breakdown right now.

The first person she saw on entering the room was Loki. And she couldn’t help walking over and giving him another slap.

“What now?” he exclaimed, hand flying to his abused cheek.

“That’s for shagging Jemma when you’re supposed to be behaving yourself, you lecherous shit!” She looked at Jemma, hand over her mouth as she started to giggle. “I’m sorry he’s so impossible.”

“I’m getting used to it,” Jemma snickered.

“Wait,” it was Thor and Loki who first realised what had just happened, since both of them saw their soulmates’ platonic marks far more than Jane and Jemma did. Jane’s was on the back of her right thigh, Jemma’s between her shoulder-blades. The Princes of Asgard looked at each other, and then at the two lovely, brilliantly clever women laughing and embracing each other, doubtlessly already coming up with ways to make their soulmates’ lives hell.

“We are so doomed,” Loki said dismally.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is also Ozhawk's handiwork. Enjoy!

Apparently an Asgardian feast to celebrate the engagements of both their royal princes could be pulled together in just a few hours, Skye mused, looking around the magnificently decorated banqueting hall. Or maybe Asgardians just partied like this all the time. Who knew? She restrained the urge to quake yet another Asgardian lord who ran his eyes lasciviously down her body as Sif introduced them. The blonde Valkyrie at her shoulder – Brunnhilde, Sif had called her – growled menacingly and the lord actually paled and fled.

"That's a neat trick," Skye said cheerfully to Brunnhilde. "You'll have to teach me that one."

The tall blonde smiled slightly. "It should not be necessary, Lady Skye. They will need to learn better quickly. They forget how hot Fandral's temper is when he is provoked. I daresay he will teach one or two of them better manners at the point of his blade and then the rest will settle down."

"I'm quite looking forward to seeing a few of these arrogant pricks taken down a peg or two, actually," Sif muttered under her breath. "Did you know Lord Tyr told me last week that I needed to stop wasting my time with the sword and get on with raising a child or two?"

"No!" Brunnhilde gasped. "Did you cut him a new orifice?"

"Several, actually," Sif smiled, showing her teeth. "Ah, Fandral returns! I am relieved of my duty – come, Brunnhilde, let us go and find some ale."

"We should remain, as chaperones…"

"Seriously, in a hall this busy, you think they need chaperones?" Sif laughed, linked her arm through the blonde's. "Cut them a  _little_  slack!"

Brunnhilde smiled, bowed her head respectfully to Skye, and followed Sif into the throng.

A warm hand settled at the small of Skye's back, and she leaned back into Fandral's touch. She knew even without looking that it was him. Would have known even without Sif's words. She could  _feel_  his presence.

"I am sorry I had to leave you, my lady," Fandral murmured quietly against her ear, and Skye gave a pleasurable little shiver. "I shall not do so again this eve." His short beard was tickling her neck. Skye had to battle the urge to turn, wrap her arms around his neck and do something very disgraceful. She must have let out a sound, though, because Fandral gave a sort of choked exclamation and his hand slipped around her waist, drawing her closer against him.

"Do not make noises like that, Skye, I – don't think I can control myself if you do." His voice dropped huskily.

She must have squeaked again because he swore – colourfully and archaically, which made her want to giggle. And then suddenly he was drawing her through the crowd towards Loki and Jemma.

Skye went without protesting – not that she wanted to. Fandral smelled intoxicatingly good, the hardness of his arm around her waist made her just want to melt against his strength.

"Loki," Fandral murmured into the Trickster's ear, "you are aware that I have covered any number of times for you in the past, yes?"

"Hm," Loki said, his eyes on Jemma as she giggled at something Jane was saying to her. "Yes, Fandral, I suppose I am in your debt somewhat. What do you want?"

"An illusion."

Loki turned and smiled wickedly, eyes alight, looking at Skye. "Why  _Fandral_. After all your remarks to me about  _my_  immoral behaviour."

"Ten minutes," Fandral said, a flush rising on his cheekbones. "Ten minutes only."

Skye suddenly caught on to what he was asking Loki for. "An hour!"

Loki had to cough to cover a laugh. "Half an hour, Lady Skye, while we sit at table. You are to sit between Fandral and I, and Volstagg on Fandral's other side will notice nothing but his dinner. Any longer than that and the illusion will be difficult to maintain; too tricky for me to make the simulacrums interact with others."

"Thank you," Fandral said a little stiffly.

"Yes, well. Don't behave too badly."

"Hypocrite."

"Of course." Loki smirked.

A gong sounded then, and Loki nodded. "The dinner bell." He moved closer to Skye and Fandral, using Fandral's broad body to conceal the fact that his hands were moving slightly as he whispered under his breath. A slight green glow appeared around his hands, and he reached up and touched a fingertip to each of Skye and Fandral's brows.

"Step back, and go quietly," Loki said softly, "be careful not to bump into anyone. No one can see you, but they could still feel you."

Skye couldn't help but find it creepy, as Fandral led her swiftly out of the hall, to look back and see herself apparently chatting animatedly with Fandral and Loki as they made their way to the dinner table.

"Wow, I really do look tiny next to you," she muttered, "and ugh, does my laugh really sound like that?"

"It sounds like the sweetest of music to me, my lady," Fandral said poetically, leading her outside. "And your small stature does not disturb me in the least."

Skye let out a slight squawk as he suddenly caught her by the waist. They'd made their way out onto a balcony overlooking a large courtyard with a huge tree in the middle of it, and Fandral easily lifted her to sit on the stone railing. She yelped and caught at his shoulders – and then realised how fortuitously her perch brought her almost equal with his height.

"Oh," she looked into his eyes, gleaming faintly in the moonlight, as he stepped closer to her, moving between her parted knees, his strong hands holding her waist. " _Fandral_." It was a thin whisper of his name.

"Skye," his voice was a low rumble, but he didn't move further. Not until she ran her hands impatiently into his thick blond hair and pulled his mouth down to hers.

Loki sighed impatiently as they slipped up to their seats half an hour later. "Fandral,  _really_?" he muttered under his breath. "You're going to have to shave that beard off. Poor Skye's chin is all over red."

Fandral's grin was entirely unrepentant. Skye nudged Loki in the ribs as he passed his hand swiftly over her face to conceal the stubble rash on her chin with another illusion. "Don't you dare make him shave. I like his beard."

Loki arched his brows mockingly. "Indeed," he drawled. "Far be it from me to interfere with your  _pleasures_ , Lady Skye."

She blushed, realising what he was inferring. "Don't be a creep, Loki. I'll tell Jemma on you."

He actually looked worried. Skye grinned and turned her attention to hastily eating some dinner, since they'd missed the first half of the feast.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a combined effort from both of us. Enjoy!

Jemma didn’t know how accustomed she’d gotten to sharing a bed with Loki until he wasn’t there. Though it had been late when the engagement party fizzled to an end, once she finally got to bed, she couldn’t sleep. She was cold, lonely, and thinking too much – so she got up, wrapped a robe around herself, and went for a walk in the darkened hallways.

She had ghosted around the halls for too long, gotten turned around, and just about given up on quieting her thoughts when she noticed candlelight filtering from a room on the other end of the hall. She’d never been down this hall before, and she had always been inquisitive, so she moved on silent feet to investigate.

Peering into the room – the most ornate bedchamber she’d seen yet – she saw it was empty. But there was a lit candle on the vanity table, and the doors to the balcony were open – and she heard crying coming from that direction.

Setting her own candle on the vanity beside the other, Jemma crept to the balcony doorway and looked around.

Just to the left of the door, leaning against the wall out of sight, was Jane, tears slowly making their way down her cheeks,

Jemma’s heart clenched as it hit her where they had ended up – Frigga’s rooms.

She kept her voice soft, hoping not to startle her new friend as she said, “Jane?”

The other woman jumped and attempted to wipe her tears away until Jemma laid a hand on her arm, letting her know without saying anything that it was okay to cry. Jane’s head fell back against the wall again and she stared up at the stars, admitting, “I am so not ready for this. Not Asgard, not becoming royalty, not... gosh, not a _baby_!” She snorted. “I should’ve seen that coming though; stupid morning sickness and pregnancy hormones!”

“Your stomach and hormones could settle soon,” Jemma offered, because she wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted to say about the rest of it.

Asgard, royal status, marriage – those were uncertainties that she understood because she had them too. Maybe that was why she felt so inadequate to comfort Jane.

Her platonic soulmate seemed to understand, because she sighed and said, “Usually stargazing helps me calm down, but Asgard is in an entirely different system and I can’t even think clearly enough to chart them right now.”

Surely the idea of marrying wasn’t so unsettling to Jane that it inflicted an inability to continue her studies, was it? “Before Odin’s decree, did you think you’d marry Thor?”

“Eventually, yeah, of course. But once _I_ was _ready_ for it... for being here and starting a family. I know Thor’s ready and he’s already getting excited about the baby, I just, I don’t know if I can deal with becoming a mom on top of everything else.”

“You’ll be perfect, Jane,” Jemma said loyally. “If what little I've heard about Darcy Lewis is true, you’ve got the patience of a saint, and I _know_ you’ve got enough firmness in you to put Loki in his place. You’ll be a wonderful mother.”

A half-smile tilted Jane’s mouth as she admitted, “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“Well, now you have,” Jemma replied with a smile of her own.

“You know,” Jane commented, seeming content to move on to a different topic. “As much of a wreck as I am, I can’t imagine being your friend right now.”

“Skye?”

“Yeah. Do she and Fandral even know what they’re going to do about their situation?”

“I’m not sure,” Jemma admitted with a shrug.

“If I know Fandral as well as I think I do, he’s not going to let her just slip away; he’ll come up with a plan.”

“Right now,” Jemma pointed out, thinking of Jane’s newly-revealed condition, “I think our plan needs to be to go back to sleep.”

“I can’t get to sleep here without Thor.”

Jemma threaded an arm through Jane’s and asked while steering her back inside, “In that case, how do you feel about a sleepover? You can be back in your room at sunrise and no one will be any the wiser...”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Loki couldn’t sleep. Not without his little bird close beside him, her soft breath on his skin soothing him to slumber. He paced the halls angrily before finally losing his temper. A few whispered incantations cloaked him with invisibility; he still could not enter through the doors to Jemma’s chambers though, not without having to open them and alert the guards to his presence, so he was reduced to going outside and literally climbing the walls to her window. Like some desperate lover from a Shakespearean play. He snorted at the thought, climbing gracefully over the edge of the balcony and moving to the open doors. It was a warm night, the curtains fluttering lightly in the breeze.

 _I am here for you, my Jemma – do you sleep as ill alone as I do?_  

He froze at the realisation that Jemma was not alone in her bed. For an instant his eyes glowed red and his skin began to shimmer blue – until he realised that it was Jane Foster who lay there beside his beloved, both of them peacefully asleep, hands just touching atop the covers. 

 _Damn_. 

Still, he couldn’t help but be glad that Jane and Jemma had each other. This couldn’t be easy for either of them. For a long moment Loki watched the two women sleep, and then he moved soundlessly back out onto the balcony. 

 _I wonder if sleep eludes Thor as it does me?_ But then Thor had spent many nights apart from Jane Foster, by necessity. The big lug probably slept like a baby. _Now Fandral, on the other hand..._  

Loki smiled, clambering easily down the wall. _They do say that misery loves company._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I think I’m offended that you didn’t invite me.”

Thor and Fandral both started slightly guiltily at Loki’s words.

“Brother!” Thor was quick to his feet, though. “I am sorry, I did not think that you…”

“Had heart enough to be grieved when I am denied my soulmate?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Loki took pity on Thor. “I know. No matter, Thor.” He drew another chair to the table, reached for a cup. “Pour some of that mead, Fandral. Let us drown our sorrows together.”

Fandral’s mouth twitched, but he lifted the flagon and poured. “What cause have you to be sorrowful? Lady Jemma will be your bride in a scant few days, at your side forever.”

“Indeed,” Loki couldn’t quite help what he was sure was an idiotically happy grin.

“Loki,” Thor gave his brother a nudge, that almost shoved Loki off his chair. “And you say I am the insensitive one! Can you not see Fandral’s distress?”

Come to think of it, their bearded blond friend did look uncharacteristically miserable. “What is the problem, Fandral?” Loki asked, bemused. “Are you not happy to have found your soulmate? I have heard so much of Skye from Jemma, she is brave and talented, and certainly beautiful enough to please the eye…”

Fandral was on his feet before he knew it, groping for the sword he wasn’t wearing. “You will speak of my lady with the respect I show yours!”

Loki actually froze. “I apologise,” he said after a moment. “I did not think, Fandral. Jemma calls her only _Skye_. I intended only to compliment you on your good fortune.”

Thor acted the peacemaker, of course. “Fandral, pray sit down. Loki intended no insult. Come, we are all friends here. Neither Loki nor I would insult Skye any more than you would insult Jane or Jemma.” He deliberately left off the _Lady_ before all three names, and after a moment Fandral nodded and settled back into his seat.

Loki hesitated, eyeing Fandral. It really wasn’t like the charming warrior to become so agitated. “What is it that troubles you, Fandral?” he asked finally.

“I am sworn to the throne of Asgard,” Fandral said bleakly. “I cannot leave the Realm without Odin’s consent – which he will not give, not until he is certain his decrees regarding the females of Midgard will be obeyed. And nor will I endanger Lady Skye by asking her to remain here. Without the protection of my name she would be vulnerable to – well, you know of what I speak. To those who will take time to accept that Midgardian customs are not ours and Midgardian women are not to be trifled with.”

“She won’t marry you?” Loki said thoughtfully.

“Why would she, so soon? Even though she is my soulmate, it is a very great thing to ask, to wed a man whom you have just met.”

“Did you actually ask?”

Fandral blinked. “Well – not in so many words.” To his horror, both Thor and Loki rolled their eyes. If those two were _agreeing_ , he had clearly done something very wrong. “Should I have?”

“One thing that both Midgardian and Asgardian maidens have in common,” Thor told him, “is that they all have a desire for romance, I have found. Even I had the sense to go down upon my knees and speak pretty words to my Jane when the time came to ask her to wed me. It softened her heart, I think, after hearing Odin’s decree.”

“Oh,” Fandral took another drink of his mead. Loki topped his cup off, and they all drank in silence for a few moments. “Still,” Fandral said finally, “even if I were to ask Lady Skye to be my bride, the fact remains that I could not bear to rush her into marriage. She needs time, to come to know me, to accept me. Intimacy – cannot be rushed.”

Thor and Loki both looked at each other. Then back at Fandral. Then at each other again.

“You tell him,” Thor said bravely.

“Haha _no_.” Loki shook his head vigorously. “He already thinks I’m an immoral lecherous bastard.”

“Which is why _you_ should tell him!”

“Oh stop trying to pretend you’re as pure as the driven snow, as if you and Jane haven’t been…”

“I really don’t want to hear about it!” Fandral interrupted as their voices began to rise. “And nor do I want to listen to _either_ of you telling me that I should do anything dishonourable regarding my lady, because it’s not going to happen!”

Loki drained his cup, beginning to feel pleasantly mellow. “What about a marriage of convenience?” he suggested.

“A what?” Fandral and Thor both looked at him blankly.

“Well, leading to more eventually, of course.”

“I still don’t understand…”

“It’s a plot device, from Midgardian romance novels. What?” Loki asked when Thor and Fandral both looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Not that I’ve read any, obviously!”

“Are you _blushing_ , Loki?” Thor said suspiciously.

“No! It’s just the mead. Anyway,” Loki rushed on. “A marriage of convenience is when a couple get married but don’t actually live as man and wife. It could be done for any number of reasons, but in your case, Fandral, it would give you time to get to know Lady Skye. She could remain here on Asgard, protected by your name, but without any pressure to be, well, intimate with you until she – until _both_ of you – are ready. It is no one’s business how your rooms are arranged, after all, and I know well that your suite is large enough to give Skye her own private rooms.”

“Maybe it’s the mead,” Fandral said after a few moments of contemplation, “but that really isn’t such a bad idea, Loki.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Thor said cheerfully.

“You’ll drink to anything, Thor.” Loki poured more mead for all three of them, though.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Skye really, really hated the chaperones this morning. After breakfast, Fandral had invited her for a stroll in the royal gardens, and she could tell he had something on his mind. But he was holding back, and their uninvited company was the only reason she could come up with for that.

Still, he smiled sweetly when they came to a lull in their conversation and plucked a bright pink flower from its bush. He swept her hair away from her face and tucked the blossom behind her ear.

“Beautiful,” he murmured and Skye flushed scarlet.

They continued walking along the path hand in hand, silent now, and Skye made up her mind, resting her head on his arm and whispering, “What’s on your mind?”

Fandral’s leisurely gait stilled for a beat, but he merely cast her a surprised side-glance and kept moving, ever mindful of their chaperones. Looking apprehensive, he admitted, “I may have a plan for how we can do away with the chaperone irritation.”

“I’m listening.”

Fandral took a deep breath and it occurred to Skye that her soulmate was nervous as he said, “What if – and please hear me out – you and I were to marry within the next couple of weeks. No, please let me finish. I won’t push my way in anything; it would simply mean we could do away with the All-father’s restrictions and allow our relationship to progress however we desire – however would make you most comfortable.”

Skye forgot to breathe for a second, but when she finally did speak, it was only an uncertainly whispered, “Me move to Asgard?”

 “That would be the ultimate conclusion to our ‘love story’ regardless, wouldn’t it? I thought you were aware of the fact that my oath to protect the Asgardian throne prevents me from permanently following you to Midgard. I don’t expect your reply to this idea immediately, of course. It merely seems to me to be the simplest solution for where we now stand.”

“I’ll think about it,” Skye promised solemnly, already doing just that as she added, “... and I’ll give you my answer at the wedding.”

Fandral smiled again at that and pressed his lips to the back of her hand with a pleased, “I eagerly await your decision, my beloved.

 _How,_ Skye wondered, feeling a little exasperated with herself, _does he manage to fluster me so effortlessly_?

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Loki really couldn’t believe that this was happening. Already – _right this moment_ – he was marrying his beloved, his soulmate, his little bird, his Jemma. Five minutes more and they would be man and wife for all of eternity, thanks to the Idunn’s apples that he happened to know Odin was going to present to both Jane and Jemma at the end of the double ceremony. And frankly, although Asgardian wedding ceremonies were extremely formal affairs, he’d never remembered them taking as long as this one was. It wasn’t just because of the fact that it was a double wedding, Loki was sure, nor was it the fact that they were incorporating both Asgardian and Midgardian wedding traditions into the ceremony – wait, perhaps that was it.

Yes, that was it, more than likely, come to think of it. There was one particular Midgardian wedding tradition that he could not _wait_ to get to – kissing the bride, of course – after having gone without for the past nine days. He was sorely tempted to tap his foot to show his impatience.

But then Odin, the officiator of the ceremony, asked the princes to join hands with their soulmates. When Loki did, Jemma gave his hand a gently reprimanding squeeze, though her gaze was understanding, reminding him – as ever – to be a little more patient and to savour the moment that he was in _this_ second -  which wasn’t hard to do when she was staring up at him with her gorgeous eyes and openly adoring smile.

His brilliant, curious, brassy, caring Midgardian bride whom he loved more then life itself… and somehow she loved him just as much. Never in the centuries that he had spent wishing, searching for his soulmate – though never as hard as poor, still-distressed Fandral had – Loki had never once dreamt that she would be one of the Midgardians whose world he’d rained terror upon. Much less would he have dreamed that she would not only forgive him for all of the things he’d done, but forget them entirely. He was the luckiest man alive to have the fates bestow such a gift of a woman upon him, and he loved Jemma all the more for it.

* * *

Two days. Darcy left Jane alone for a whole two days to go with Erik to a convention in Switzerland, and they returned to find no Jane, but instead a note written in handwriting that Darcy was pretty sure was Sif's. _The All-father has ordered Jane married to Thor in nine days; I will return to retrieve both of you_ (Darcy assumed this meant her and Erik) _at the appropriate time so that you may attend._ And that had been a week ago. By now Darcy was starting to loose it, not to mention that she had quite a few words that she wanted to exchange with "the All-father." Ah, if wishes were fishes... Then Sif did finally show up, and Darcy and Erik both made it clear they wanted answers from no one but Jane. 

By the day of the wedding, Darcy's festering fury had wound down to despondent sulking over the fact that she was going to have to return to earth after all this was over, and her Janey was going to remain very much on Asgard, leaving the (was it now "former?") lab assistant effectively alone.

This was her best friend’s wedding – and she had gotten to travel to an entirely different planet to attend, for Pete’s sake – she should be happy right now… but at the moment, Darcy just didn’t have it in her. And this was Asgard, with all of their ale and mutton or whatever is was, so of course she’d had trouble finding decent comfort food!

Until now, that was. Jane – or maybe even Jemma, since she seemed to be Odin’s favorite at the moment – had apparently put her foot down at the idea of having a chocolate-less double wedding, and Darcy was currently glued to the banquet table, gorging on sugar during one of the weirdest receptions she’d ever been to. Jane could fall head over heels for the entire princess garb and prince charming swooning thing if she wanted to; Darcy knew she would loose her mind if someone asked – let alone forced – her to move to this Shakespearian place. Heck, she was pretty close to loosing her mind right now as it was!

Buried deep in her thoughts, she was startled to turn and notice that there was a sandy-haired man standing a couple of feet away, looking just as uncomfortable and miserable as Darcy only felt. At least she hoped she didn’t look that dejected!

The poor guy wasn’t hard on the eyes, though, in a geeky sort of way, she noted.He certainly had a rather nice ass in those tight leather pants. She tipped her head to have an unashamed better look. Yes. Definitely a nice ass. And a nice smile, even if it did flash only briefly as Agent iPod Thief – who looked _really weird_ in leather pants – spoke to him.

What the hell. He’d be someone to talk to that she didn’t have to keep mentally translating whatever they were saying into modern English. All-Speak was all very well but they did all talk like escapees from a BBC costume drama.

And the poor guy looked like he could use a friend – for that matter, he looked like someone had kicked his favorite puppy!

 _Or stolen it…_ Darcy mused, realizing that she knew who this guy was! Jane and Jemma had both mentioned him the day before while Darcy had been watching their last wedding dress fittings. He was Leo Fitz, Jemma’s old lab partner from before Loki had brought her to Asgard. The poor guy!

They both noticed that she was staring at him at the same time, and he offered her one of the most pathetic attempts at a smile that she had ever seen.

“You’re not alone in your misery, you know,” she offered lightly, hoping to cheer him up. “A crazy hot guy stole away my girl too.” His mouth dropped open as he turned fully towards her, staring with bug eyes. “Okay…” she said slowly, offering him her hand. “I’m Darcy.”

“I know,” he managed, taking her hand – and coming dangerously close to invading her personal space – as he said, “I think I’m your soulmate!”

Darcy’s mouth dropped open. “Get out of town,” she said disbelievingly. And then hastily backtracked as he looked suddenly hurt, dropping her hand and taking a step back from her. “Oh, shit, no, didn’t mean it like that, you’re really cute! Only I’d heard you’re a genius, and me, I’m so, well, _not_.”

* * *

Fitz was feeling deeply sorry for himself, so it took a while for him to register that someone was watching him. He turned his head and caught the blue eyes of Dr Foster’s lab assistant – Diana? Delia? – something beginning with a D, he really hadn’t been paying attention when Jemma had mentioned her. She was rather gorgeous, really, if a bit more voluptuous than his usual type. He drew in a deep breath as Jemma walked past, radiant in her stunning gown; leaning on Loki’s arm and smiling starrily up into his eyes.

“Jemma looks so very happy,” Coulson murmured paternally, and Fitz managed to muster up a small smile before it slid from his face.

Seeing his expression, Coulson squeezed Fitz’s shoulder in silent encouragement and then meandered back into the crowd. Fitz followed him with his eyes for a second before he noticed that Dr. Foster’s assistant was still watching him. He tried offering her a smile, but that only seemed to make _both_ of them more depressed before she declared with a nearly gentle resigned tone, “You’re not alone in your misery, you know; a crazy hot guy stole away my girl too.”

Fitz knew that whatever expression he’d donned at that statement wasn’t very flattering, but honestly, this was happening here – now, in the middle of Jemma’s wedding day?!

“Okay…” she drawled, which just went to prove how stupid of an expression he must be wearing as she reached out to take his hand – but, yes, this was _happening_! “I’m Darcy.”

He knew that already! Barring what Jemma had said and judging only by what Darcy had said before her introduction, he already knew that!

_You’re not alone in your misery, you know; a crazy hot guy stole away my girl too. Okay… I’m Darcy._

Those words had been scrawled along the length of his right leg since the day he was born! He had just met his _soulmate_!

“I know; I think I’m your soulmate!” Because it wasn’t like there was going to be another Darcy come along in his lifetime and say those exact words to him!

Fitz was downright giddy as he reached for her, but his blood ran cold when she said loudly, “Get out of town!” He took an obedient step back only for her to say hastily, “Oh, shit, no, didn’t mean it like that, you’re really cute! Only I’d heard you’re a genius, and me, I’m so, well, _not_.”

And just like that, his ten thousand watt smile was back and he asked her, “Well, unless my memory fails me, ‘Dr. Foster’s assistant’ is one of the best ‘scientist wrangler’ Coulson knows of. Because he’s been telling me that he’s going to recruit one of those for SHIELD now that Jemma’s not there to keep me thinking sensibly.”

He could tell that Darcy knew how to read between the lines of that statement and hear what he actually meant: “I haven’t even been eating regular meals since the other half of my brain blasted off to Asgard.”

But she just rolled her beautiful blue eyes and said exasperatedly, “What is it with you scientists!” Then she winked at him and murmured under her breath, “I haven’t been eating very well either this week.” _Then_ she handed him a plate, pointed towards the buffet table, and ordered, “Eat.”

“Don’t I get at least one kiss from my soulmate first?” Fitz asked, and Darcy grinned, gladly leaning in to give it to him.

And the next thing he knew, he was being flung away from Darcy and an angry Asgardian woman was pointing a sword at his throat!

His newly-discovered soulmate mirrored his thoughts on the subject pretty well when she screamed at the swordswoman, “What the heck, Brenda?!”

“It’s Brunnhilde,” the woman explained, feigning patience as her eyes never once left Fitz. “And I am carrying out my assignment as ordered by Prince Thor – to keep watch over you lest there should be any trouble because of your being an unattached woman.”

“Not by killing him, you’re not,” Darcy screeched, jerking on the arm in which Brunnhilde was holding her sword. Fitz didn’t dare even _breathe_ with the blade’s point at his throat as Darcy continued ranting, “As of two minutes ago, I am very attached to _him_ because _he’s my soulmate_ , and if you’re afraid of disappointing Thor now, wait until I get through telling him you tried killing my soulmate!”

The sword was hesitantly lowered from Fitz’s throat as Brunnhilde looked between the two of them before saying, “Very well, then; my mistake. In that case, congratulations; I wish you well – but I must also ask you to abide by Asgard’s standard for the unwed until such time as you return to your own realm.”

“Seriously?” Darcy snapped as Fitz made his own noise of protest. Brunnhilde had just tried to kill him; the least she could do was let him kiss his bloody soulmate!

But no, of course not! “I’m afraid so, Lady Darcy.”

Darcy rolled her eyes at the address and said bluntly, “Give us some space before I see to it that you’re releaved entirely of your duty position in Odin’s guard.”

Brunnhilde’s and Fitz’s eyes both went wide as the woman backed obediently out of hearing range and Fitz murmured, “Can you actually do that?”

Darcy shrugged, “Nah, probably not, but what the heck? She apparently doesn’t know that.” Fitz snorted, and Darcy wound her arm through his, smiling as she asked, “What? I’m a poly-sci grad; fibbing about what we’re capable of is part of the territory!”

“So I should expect to be lied to?” Fitz teased.

“No! As a matter of fact, I’ll make you a promise right now. The moment we get off of this planet, I am going to snog you senseless.”

Fitz grinned broadly, feeling a flush consume his face as he said, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“But until then,” Darcy shoved a plate into his hand. “I better start making a good impression on iPod-dude over that ‘scientist wrangler’ job, don’t you think?”

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by ozhawk. Enjoy!

**Chapter Sixteen**

Asgardian dances were very different to Earth ones, Skye discovered as Fandral guided her through the steps. Once again she had to swallow a little bit of jealousy as Jemma danced effortlessly past with Loki, though a moment later she spotted Jane tripping over Thor's feet and felt a bit better.

"Don't look at your feet, my lady," Fandral murmured for the hundredth time, and she couldn't suppress a giggle.

"I feel like I've stumbled into a medieval remake of  _Dirty Dancing_."

He actually faltered in his step. "This is – dirty?"

"No! Oh hell. Sorry.  _Dirty Dancing_  is a film, about a girl who learns to dance with an older man and… it's complicated." She really didn't quite feel up to explaining.

"Ah, a two-dimensional moving picture, yes. Thor and Loki have told me of such." Fandral nodded, and then made a slight face. "I know I am a lot older than you, Skye…"

"Oh dear, you always seem to pick up on the things I say and grab the worst possible interpretation," she said a bit glumly. "Fandral, you're  _immortal_. Being older than me is – well, let's just say  _I'm_  the one concerned, that I must seem so gauche and ignorant to you."

He'd eased her to the side of the hall as they danced and now drew her to a stop, gathering her hands in his. Glared at Sif as she approached, seeing them standing close together. Sif sighed and ostentatiously gave them her back, scowling at anyone who so much as dared to glance in their direction.

"My lady," Fandral lifted her hand to his mouth, pressed a kiss upon her knuckles. "Suffice it to say that I find you no such thing. You enchant me, each and every time I am in your presence." He brought her hand to his chest, laid it against his heart. "My heart is filled with nothing but you. I see only you, whenever we are apart I ache for your presence, for your sweet voice in my ears, for your smile to gladden my eyes."

 _He's being even more flowery and Shakespearean than usual_ , Skye couldn't help but think.  _Must be the whole wedding thing, it's turning everyone into lovesick idiots_ …

"But 'tis not only your beauty that has me entranced; every time we are together my respect for you grows. Your friends Sir Fitz and the Son of Coul tell me of your loyalty to your friends, your skill in battle and with the technology of your world, your dauntless courage."

_I'm blushing really, really red now._

"I have heard Lady Jemma speak of your kindness to those in need of comfort, even when those wounded struck out in fear. I am the one who is not worthy of you, Lady Skye; this poor warrior stands in terror that you might find me lacking…"

"Oh no, don't even go there," Skye stopped him, grabbing his hand tightly and stepping closer. Sif coughed. Skye ignored her. "Don't even, for one minute, think that you might not be good enough. In any way. I know how valuable you are here, how much even Odin relies on you." She glanced up at the top table, at Odin presiding over the proceedings, and flinched as she realised the All-Father was looking right at them, his one blue eye piercing. But then a half-smile touched Odin's lips and he deliberately looked away. She looked back up into Fandral's eyes. "I know just how good a warrior you are."

She'd asked Loki for the favour, two days earlier. All it had taken was one smile from Jemma and Loki had sighed, wrapped them both up in illusions and taken them to the training grounds, where spectators were normally forbidden. Skye and Jemma had watched in awe as Fandral fought a practice match against Thor.

Without Mjolnir to hand, Fandral was a match even for Thor, though Thor was bigger and more powerful; Fandral's speed and skill with his sword a thing of beauty to watch. Skye could quite understand why he was Odin's preferred personal bodyguard. It would take an army to get past Fandral to Asgard's King.

As always, Skye lost herself staring into Fandral's eyes.

"You promised me an answer today, my lady," he murmured finally, breaking the spell.

"Hm?" They'd drifted slowly closer together; he now held both her hands firmly in his grasp, pressed against his chest. Only a few inches separated their faces, and that only caused by the fact that he towered over her.

"An answer. To my proposal of a marriage of convenience."

The phrase made Skye smile –  _They must have bad medieval romance novels here on Asgard, too, although it'd be contemporary romance for them, I suppose –_  she almost giggled at the thought, but the look on Fandral's face was utterly serious.

 _I'm never going to do better than this,_ she realised, looking up at him _. He's my soulmate. He's literally a hero out of legend. He'd never, ever let Ward or my psycho father near me again._

_And, oh, I'm quite hopelessly in love with him anyway…_

"Yes."

His eyes darkened, he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand again, looked at her mouth, and Skye couldn't quite help the shiver that ran up her spine.

"I don't suppose you feel like being really obliging, Sif?" she said, never taking her eyes from Fandral's, and the war goddess sighed.

"Considering that congratulations are now in order, I suppose I could escort the two of you somewhere more private and then absent myself for ten minutes. Only ten minutes, mind you!"

"That would do nicely," Fandral murmured.

"That's your opinion, I'm thinking an hour or two would be more in order," Skye gave him a mischievous grin.

"Ten minutes," Sif said firmly as she left them in a small antechamber, "and if anyone asks, I was here all along." She locked the door behind her as she left so no one could walk in on them.

"Hopefully she'll get distracted," Skye mumbled, almost running into Fandral's arms and reaching up to kiss him. He lifted her easily with one hand – there were definitely advantages to having a soulmate with super-strength, Skye was discovering – and kissed her back thoroughly.

* * *

It was far too inconvenient, Skye was finding, to get time alone with Fandral. Even now they were officially betrothed. It was only three days after the royal weddings when she cracked and asked him how soon they could be married.

"Why, at any time you wish, my lady," he said, surprised. "But I thought that you would wish to arrange things to your satisfaction, have a new gown made…"

"All I want is my friends as witnesses and you as my husband," she told him plainly.

" _Skye_ ," he said softly, pressed their joined hands to his chest, over his heart. "You destroy me with such sentiments."

"Can't have that." She smiled up at him. "Sooo – tomorrow?"

"At noon. We will plight our troth then, in the throne room before all – only ask those of your friends who you wish to be there."

And so Skye and Fandral were married, in a far simpler ceremony than that which Jemma and Jane had been forced to go through, but then Fandral wasn't a prince. Odin performed the ceremony himself, winding a silken cord around their joined hands and speaking a benediction, his one eye gleaming with something that Skye rather thought might be satisfaction.

"You had best unwind the cord, my lady," Fandral said, when they'd finally escaped to his chambers, much later that evening, and were finally, blessedly, truly alone.

"Why?" she frowned up at him. She'd learned from gossip that it was considered very ill luck to remove the silk cord that bound their hands together until the marriage had been  _consummated_ , as Sif had delicately put it, her pale cheeks rather pink.

"Because," a flush built up on Fandral's own face as he looked down at her, "'tis time to retire, my lady and – your rooms are over yonder…"

"Oh," she suddenly realised that he still had the impression that she intended this to be a marriage of convenience, as he'd originally suggested.

Frankly, Skye couldn't see the point. They were married. The marriage could be dissolved by either or both of them, after a three-month wait, whether or not it had been consummated. And now she finally had Fandral all to herself – well, she had no plans to wait any longer to find out if he made love as well as he kissed.

So instead, she reached up her free hand, placed it lightly on his chest. "I'm not interested in seeing my rooms, Fandral. Only yours."

He gulped, a little wide-eyed. "Skye, you cannot mean what I think you might…"

"Oh, but I do. I love you. And I want to be with you – tonight and always." She leaned a little closer, lifted their bound hands. "I'm your wife, Fandral. All.  _Yours_."

He licked his lips, his eyes darkening with hunger. "Mine."

"That's right. So why don't you show me what that means, beloved?"

He could not resist her. Would never be able to deny her anything, and well she knew it, he suspected. That she freely offered what he wanted to badly – he should decline, tell her that they should wait a little longer.

And then her slender fingers slipped beneath the jacket he wore, caressed his chest through his thin silk shirt, and Fandral was lost.

"My lady," he said thickly, and a moment later was scooping Skye off her feet, carrying her through to his bedroom. "It shall be as you wish."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You Can See Forever  
> May/Heimdall  
> Maydall  
> Disclaimer: Marvel owns all characters in this fic. And this particular one-shot is the work of ozhawk. It's the 103rd chapter of her collection of one-shots, "Soulmate Shorts."  
> Theme song:  
> Pink Floyd – Shine On You Crazy Diamond  
> This one is the last in the series which fits into the Loki/Jemma and Skye/Fandral AU.

Whenever May visited Asgard, she always found herself lingering in the Bifrost chamber, looking out at the cosmos. Once or twice she’d turned from her contemplation to find Heimdall watching her. He usually inclined his head with a slight smile before looking away, and she always courteously returned the smile.

She was somewhat surprised, at the royal wedding, to find Heimdall standing at her side as she watched the dancing.

“Lady Melinda,” he rumbled quietly in greeting.

“Milord.” She gave him a friendly smile, but said nothing else.

They stood in silence together for a long moment, and then Heimdall cleared his throat and spoke again. “Lady Melinda, it has come to my notice that you enjoy viewing the cosmos when you pass through the Bifrost chamber. You are welcome to visit there whenever you wish, not merely when you are to traverse the bridge.”

Surprised, she turned to look up at him. “I am?” She’d had the impression that no-one went to the Bifrost chamber except to travel.

“Indeed.” Gold eyes gleamed down at her briefly before he looked away. “Your company would be welcomed.”

“Oh. Well – thank you. I may take you up on the offer. It’s very beautiful in the chamber. So very peaceful.”

“Yes. I know that you like to fly your aeroplanes. Perhaps when you look out at the sky, it is a similar feeling?”

“Yes, but not as _intense_ ,” May tried to explain. “Looking from the Bifrost chamber – you can see _forever_.”

Heimdall nodded slowly. “Indeed. Perhaps you have the makings of a Guardian, Lady Melinda.”

She blinked. He made her a slight bow and was gone, moving incredibly gracefully and easily through the crowded hall for such a big man. For the first time she realised he wasn’t wearing his golden armour, but a simply cut – if beautifully made – dark brown tunic and leather pants which really did awesome things for his long, muscular body. She couldn’t quite resist tilting her head for a long look at his ass as he walked away. “Love to watch you go,” she murmured laughingly under her breath.

The Valkyrie chaperoning her nearly choked on her cup of ale.

* * *

The Midgardian guests were staying a few extra days after the wedding, except Fitz and Darcy, who were heading back to Earth. May decided to accompany them to the Bifrost chamber, even though she wasn’t travelling. She watched as Heimdall used his sword to activate the mechanism and Fitz and Darcy were whirled away in a blaze of rainbow lights.

“How amazing,” she murmured softly as the bridge blinked out.

“In all these years, I have never wearied of the Bifrost’s beauty,” Heimdall agreed, and she found herself smiling up at him as he gestured towards the observation window.

“You see this differently to me, don’t you?” May asked impulsively as he joined her. “Your eyes…”

“Were once as yours are. Guardians are made, not born.” He hesitated, and then spoke again. “When I was young, I was drawn to come here, I knew not why. I only knew that the only place I felt at peace was right here. Looking out at the universe.”

May’s jaw dropped.

“Very few find that peace here. For almost all, it is too much to take. They feel intimidated, their fragile egos crushed by the certain realisation of how insignificant a mote of dust they are in relation to the universe. Fewer still are able to look again and again, are drawn to return and gaze forth into infinity.”

He hadn’t looked at her while he was speaking. He did so now, saw her wide eyes and parted lips. “Your eyes are already beginning to develop tiny flecks of gold, Lady Melinda,” Heimdall told her gently.

He’d seen them when she arrived on Asgard this last time; resolved that he would find a way to speak to her privately. Inviting her here was the only premise he could think of. Even her Valkyrie guard did not bother to enter with her; they would not believe that he could ever behave dishonourably.

“Soon,” Heimdall told her, “you must make a choice. You will find that you are uncomfortable if you are long away from here. You will need to choose to either not return unless you must, and when you do, I will prevent you from looking out. Or – you will need to remain here, allow the transition to occur, and become a Guardian, even as I am.”

“Oh,” May breathed. Looked out of the window. “I could stay here?” She turned to look back up him. “With you?”

Heimdall’s eyes widened. His hand raised, curving lightly around her jaw, and the tip of his thumb just brushed the tender skin below her left eye.

May instinctively struck out as the pain radiated through her eye socket. Hitting Heimdall was like hitting a tree, though, he never moved; but she managed to push herself away from him.

“What _happened_?” she gasped, fingers pressing at the spot from where that agony had bloomed. And then she realised that she could see her reflection in his armour and leaned forward, peering disbelievingly at the mark appearing on her cheek

Heimdall was looking at his hand in astonishment. And then he stared back at her, saying softly; “My soulmate? After all these long, lonely centuries – _you_ are my soulmate?”

“So it would seem,” she stared up at him, rather awed. “Well, I guess that’s my choice made then, isn’t it?”

Heimdall seemed to shutter down instantly, taking a few steps back. “I will not ask you to stay with me if you choose not to become a Guardian – it is not an easy life…”

She took three quick running steps and leaped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. He was nearly a foot and a half taller than her, after all. How else would she have been able to grab his face in her hands and kiss him to silence?


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

The air stirred in the space directly behind Jemma, but the royal biochemist didn't even blink as she continued staring at the chart she had spread out on the table in front of her. After months of marriage to him, she'd gotten used to a good number of her husband's tricks, and his teleportation in particular no longer startled her.

"Good afternoon, little bird," Loki said casually, wrapping his arms around her waist and tickling at her ribs to get her to turn away from her work.

"I'm almost done, Loki," she said impatiently, trying to bat his cool hands away.

"Irritable today, aren't we?" he half-teased with an unpraised eyebrow.

Jemma frowned, though, knowing that it was the truth. "I'm sorry," she apologized, turning in his arms to rest her head against his chest. "Maybe I'm just not used to Jane not being in the lab with me; none of us like the bed rest she's been put on."

"I know, dear one, but she'll be up and about before long – with her and Thor's child in tow."

A grin tilted the edges of Jemma's mouth at the idea of a little niece or nephew underfoot... but then her smile slid as she heard Loki take a deep breath, felt the way he stiffened underneath her touch. She looked up at him, asking worriedly, "What is it?"

She knew that something had been on her husband's mind for the past week, but there had been no time for them to sit down and discuss... much of anything recently with everything that had been going on in their ever-busy lives. Being royalty was harder than it looked!

And this day was set to have a couple of surprises of its' own.

Loki looked down into her worried eyes and slowly opened his mouth to speak, obviously choosing his words with care. "We need to talk-"

"Milady!" a breathless, wide-eyed maid skidded to a stop in the doorway of the room that was hers and Jane's Asgardian lab. "Prince Loki! It's Lady Jane! The babe is coming!"

Loki's head dropped so low his forehead knocked against Jemma's scalp as he released a frustrated breath as well as his hold on her, muttering, "... Later. It would appear that we need to talk  _later_."

But Jemma didn't hear him; she was already out of her room and running – at quite an unladylike pace – towards Thor and Jane's chambers. In a moment, Loki was jogging at her side. By the time they reached the doorway of Thor and Jane's bedroom, "the babe is coming" had become "the babe has arrived."

An understandably exhausted-looking Jane was propped up in the bed by what might have been nearly a dozen scarlet pillows and Thor was standing at her side, beaming proudly down at his wife... and the healthy little boy she was rocking in her arms. Jemma could hear the child's outraged screams from the doorway.

Jane looked up and caught her eye, giving her a weary smile as she waved Jemma and Loki into the room and to her side. "Uncle Loki, Aunt Jemma, meet Magni."

"Hello, little one," looking over Jemma's shoulder, Loki practically melted – and, while watching her husband, so did Jemma.

Though he cared for few, no one was blind enough to accuse him of not loving his family... at least not these days, anyway. A fact that he kept very well hidden that Jemma was starting to realize was that, much to her delight, the man she'd married loved children. Maybe one day they would even have children of their own...

The very thought widened Jemma's smile.

"What are you thinking, my darling Jemma?" Loki asked near her ear, and only then did she realize how far away her thoughts had wandered.

Jemma shook her head as much to clear her thoughts as to answer his question as she looked back down at little Magni in Jane's arms where he was drifting off to sleep.

Loki hummed, wrapping his arms around her waist as they both took in the sight of the newest member of the family... and she caught him losing himself in thoughts that were just as far away as hers had been.

"Well, my darling," she repeated his words with a teasing smile. "What are you thinking?"

"I... am just wondering what you would think."

"About what?"

Her innocent question caused Thor to rip his gaze away from Jane and Magni to share a secretive smile with his brother. "Loki, do you mean to tell me that you haven't shared the good news with her yet?"

"Generally," Loki answered stiffly. "Midgardians are... more accepting if the woman informs the man of these things," Loki answered, his posture stiffening.

"What things?" Jemma asked, looking carefully between the brothers – and then down to Jane as she saw understanding, and then elation, dawn on the face of her platonic soulmate. "Jane, what am I missing?"

"Loki, I will tell her right now if you don't," Jane threatened sternly.

"I've been trying to do so for the past week!" Loki protested. "And I was making yet another attempt when you," he waved a hand towards Magni. "Interrupted!"

"No time like the present," Jemma snapped, starting to – for the millionth time this week – get unusually irritated.

Loki turned her so that her front was pressed against his, tightening his hold on her as he took a deep breath and softly, "What would you think... about birthing a babe of our own? In just over seven months?"

Jemma's mouth dropped open as she realized what he was saying, a slow grin forming on her face as she demanded in broken sentences, "We're...? I'm...? Right now?"

Loki nodded, biting back a laugh of glee as he repeated, "Right now, yes."

Jemma screamed, throwing her arms around Loki as Thor broke out his... well, thunderous laughter and Magni burst into tears as they woke him back up.

Jemma clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes blowing wide as she turned back to Jane and apologized, "I am so sorry!"

Jane brushed the apology away as unnecessary with a flick of her wrist and shushed her newborn son – she really was going to be a great mother; Jemma could tell already. "Don't worry about it..." Jane grinned mischievously, adding, "Your turn is coming!"

Jemma squealed at that, turning around to throw her arms around a laughing Loki once again. He picked her up off of her feet so that she was level with his height and kissed her, lowering her back to the ground only when Jane complained laughingly, "Not in front of the children!"

Joy radiated from every inch of Jemma and she knew it as she looked up into her soulmates eyes, declaring at a volume so soft that the words were just for him, "I love you, Loki."

A tender smile curved his mouth as he very deliberately placed his fingertip against his sigil on her, tilting her chin up for an achingly sweet kiss as he murmured against her lips, "And I love you, my little bird."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing and, once again, thanks so much to ozhawk for letting me continue her short and then putting so much work into this herself! This has been so much fun to write and I wholeheartedly encourage you all to go check out ozhawk's "Soulmate Shorts," both just for the great read and maybe even to see if a pairing that you might want to write pique's your interest!


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